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!■  -L  HISTORY  OF  THE  MURDER  OF  MANSFIELD  TRACY  WALWORTH,  BY 
HIS  SON,  F  AXK  H.  WALWORTH,  WITH  THE  TRIAL  CONVIC¬ 
TION.  AND  SENTENCE  OF  THE  PARRICIDE 


IE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  following  pages  tell  the  melancholy 
ay  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events 
)iir  times — the  story  of  a  young  man,  not 
city  years  of  age,  coolly  shooting  his  father, 
right  up  in  the  midst  of  the  refinements 
nodern  society,  and  surrounded  by  all  the  , 
luntages  that  tend  to  advance  men  in  so- 4 
ia  life,  if  not  in  morals  also,  his  fearful 
rite  sadly  illustrates  how  unfortunate  circum- 
;a|ces  may  warp  the  human  judgment,  blind 
le  moral  sense,  and  lead  to  the  perpetration 
f  feeds  that  make  us  stand  aghast  with  hor- 


HIE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE! 

A  FULL  ACCOUNT  OF 

THE  ASTOUNDING  MURDER  OF 

WSFIMJL9  T.  WML  WOMTM* 

-4T 

BY  HIS  SON, 


WITH  THE  TRIAL  AND  CONVICTION  OF 

THE  PARRICIDE, 

AND 

HIS  SENTENCE  FOR  LIFE  TO  THE 


STATE  PENITENTIARY  AT  SING  SING. 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


i. 

THE  PARRICIDE. 

xihe  morning  of  Tuesday,  the  third 
olune,  1873,  the  people  of  New  York 
.3  tartled  by  the  news  of  one  of  the 
st  | markable  murders  ever  perpetrated 
hr  city.  Though  long  accustomed  to 
i  the  papers  of  almost  every  morning, 
s  itails  of  some  new  and  unheard-of 
mesuch  tragedies  as  that  which  marked 
nrning  of  the  third  of  June  have  been 
re  rare  that  it  gave  rise  to  a  general 
;in  of  amazement,  and  caused  anexpres- 
n.  '  horror  to  escape  from  the  lips  of 
.10:'  every  resident  or  sojourner  in  the 
.  In  many  years  there  has  not  been,  in 
lited  States  at  least,  any  very  remark- 
3  '.stance  of  a  murder  of  a  father  by  his 
i  o  daughter.  There  have  been  in  the 
y  (  New  York,  within  the  past  seven  or 
htyears,  some  three  or  four  cases  of 
Hide,  a  score  of  uxoricides,  several  fra- 
cicJs,  and  hundreds  of  homicides,  but 
ie  parricide — at  least  none  that  has 
;n gtermined  to  be  such. 

Sit 3  the  day  of  the  Fisk  murder  indeed 
si  h  excitement  has  been  seen  in  the 
jr  New  York  over  any  single  event, 
e  linence  of  the  family,  the  reputation 
thj  murdered  man  as  an  author,  and  the 
uutirly  horrifying  circumstances  of  a 
i  llling  his  own  father,  gave  the  affair 
ajearance  of  sensationalism  which  was 
stii  d  by  the  facts.  It  was  a  true  sensa- 
>n,  iot  simply  washed,  and  the  startling 
'cr  stances  no  pen  could  overdraw. 
ios  who  read  felt  that  the  people  of  New 
irl'were  to  be  edified  by  another  cause 
ebi  in  which  the  facts  were  more  re- 
etc  terrible  than  any  for  many  years, 
or  mouth  to  mouth  the  story  passed,  and 


was  soon  known  all  over  the  city.  At  the  - 
various  hotels,  in  the  many  lobbies,  little 
else  was  spoken  of,  and  it  engaged  t!  e 
deepest  attention.  In  front  of  the  Sturte- 
vant,  inquisitive  crowds  would  occasionally 
collect  and  gaze  into  the  empty  hallway 
with  that  singularly  idiotic  stare  which 
crowds  possess. 

Of  all  the  crimes  that  shock  the  souls  of 
men  none  has  ever  been  held  in  greater 
abhorrence  than  parricide.  To  conceive 
that  the  offspring  should  become  the  slayer 
of  the  parent  is  fearful  under  any  circum¬ 
stances,  but  when  the  offense  is  committed 
with  intent  and  knowledge,  its  enormity  is 
intensified  a  thousand-fold.  Itjwas  a  crime 
punished  by  the  ancients  with  awful  rigor 
and  held  in  the  deepest  detestation;  and, 
according  to  mythological  record,  the  cul¬ 
prits  wrere  delivered  up  to  the  torments  of 
the  Furies.  CEdipus  slew  his  father  Laius 
as  they  chanced  to  meet  in  the  way,  while 
the  son  was  journeying  to  Phocis,  and  the 
avenging  Fates  followed  him  thereafter 
with  misfortune,  disgrace,  remorse,  and 
cruel  tortures  to  his  death.  Orestes,  too, 
the  son  of  Agamemnon  and  Clytemnestra, 
slew  his  mother  to  avenge  the  death  of 
his  father  at  her  hands,  and  to  blot  out  her 
adulterous  shame,  and  lie  likewise  was 
tormented  by  the  Furies,  though  afterward 
purified  by  the  people  of  Argos. 

In  all  ages  the  offense,  considered  in  pro¬ 
portion  to  the  aggregates  of  murders,  has 
been  comparatively  rare,  and  in  the 'majority 
of  these  instances  the  deed  has  usually  been 
the  result  of  anger,  accident  or  mental 
aberration. 

The  circumstances  of  the  murder  of 
Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth  by  his  son, 
Frank  H.  Walworth  renders  this  tragedy 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  the  present 


22 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


or  any  past  period  of  our  history.  At 
about  3  o’clock,  on  Monday  afternoon  of 
June  2d,  a  tall  and  slim  young  man,  with 
frank  and  winning  large  blue  eyes,  a 
smooth  face,  fair  complexion,  light  whis¬ 
kers. and  refined  features,  and  dressed  in  a 
light  tweed  suit,  and  a  spring  overcoat,  ap¬ 
plied  to  Mr.  Barrett,  the  clerk  at  the 
Sturtevant  House,  for  a  room.  He  regis¬ 
tered  Lis  name  i'r.ii.x  j >,  uiworLn,  au.i 
was  allotted  room  No.  267  on  the  second 
floor.  Afterwards  he  went  to  the  house 
where  his  father  was  boarding,  in  Fourth 
avenue,  near  Fifty-fourth  street.  His 
father  was  not  at  home,  the  servant  girl ' 
informed  him,  whereupon  lie  left  with  her 
the  following  note : 

3  o’clock. 

“  I  want  to  try  and  settle  some  family 
matters.  Call  at  the  Sturtevant  House  after 
an  hour  or  two.  If  I  am  not  there  I  will 
leave  word  at  the  office. 

F.  H.  WALWORTH.” 

TLe  servant  girl  promised  to  give  the 
note  to  his  father.  He  then  left,  and  went 
back  to  his  hotel.  Later  in  the  evening  he 
spoke  with  Mr.  Barrett,  who  had  had  a 
previous  acquaintance  with  him,  and  the 
two  young  men  took  supper  together.  Dur¬ 
ing  the  meal  Walworth  appeared  cheerful 
and  unconstrained.  The  two  gentlemen 
conversed  on  ordinary  topics,  and  both  ate 
heartily.  Mr.  Walworth  retired  to  his 
room  early. 

At  a  quarter  past  six  on  Tuesday  morning 
a  tall,  robust  gentleman,  middle  aged, 
erect  and  fine  looking,  entered  the  Sturtc-  1 
vant  House  and  asked  that  his  card,  on 
■which  was  the  name  Mr.  M.  T.  Walworth, 
might  be  sent  to  the  room  of  Mr.  Frank  II. 
Walworth.  The  call  boy  took  up  the  card, 
and  after  knocking  twice  was  answered  by 
Mr.  Frank  Walworth,  who  told  him  to  ask 
the  gentleman  to  wait,  as  he  was  not 
dressed.  A  few  minutes  after  the  call  boy 
had  descended  with  this  message  the  bell 
of  267  rang.  The  call  boy  hastened  up 
stairs,  and  on  knocking  at  the  door  was 
told  to  enter.  He  did  so,  and  saw  Mr. 
Frank  Walworth  fully  dressed,  with  his 


overcoat  on,  seated  in  a  chair  clos 
window. 

“Ask  the  gentleman  to  come  u 
room,  ”  he  said. 

The  hall  boy  departed,  and  on  d< 
his  message,  Mr.  M.  T.  Walworth  a: 
the  stairs  accompanied  by  the  boy, 
him  the  way. 

The  boy  pars  that  he  had  banffi 
get  uo.\:i  stairs  and  iooK  ai'ou, 
when  he  heard  the  report  of  a  pis , 
lowed  by  another  repott,  and  still  : 

In  a  few  moments  Mr.  Frank  K  i 
came  running  down  stairs,  and  <t 
the  desk  said  to  the  clerk : 

“I’ve  just  shot  and  killed  my  f n 
stairs  in  my  room.” 

The  clerk  was  first  bewildered  it 
horror  stricken. 

“Get  a  policeman  as  soon  as  y  < 
said  Walworth.  “I  wish  to  givia 
up.  ” 

He  then,  through  the  telegraph  & 
the  hotel,  at  once  sent  a  despafi  ti 
uncle,  C.  Walworth,  at  Albany:  i 
shot  father;  look  after  mother.” 

He  then  went  to  the  Thirties 
police  station,  and  advancing  to  ul 
where  Sergeant  Keating  was  in  In 
said : 

“Officer,  I’ve  just  shot  and  Iced 
father  at  the  Sturtevant  House.” 

‘  ‘  I’m  sorry  to  hear  it,  ”  said  the  £  gf 
thinking  at  first  that  the  self-accus  ni 
be  insane. 

The  Sergeant  called  an  officer  <U 
him  to  take  charge  of  the  youngm.a 
other  officer  was  sent  to  the  Sttet 
House  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  tl  st 
and  on  his  return  with  the  dreaulc 
firmation,  the  facts  were  formally  nte 
on  the  record.  The  young  man  tivfl 
to  the  Sergeant  a  small  Colt's  fiveiod 
with  four  of  the  barrels  discharged  i 

“That,”  said  he,  “is  the  pistl^ 
him  with.” 

At  half  past  ten  Coroner  Young ndj 
Marsh  arrived,  and  Walworth  ge  I 
following  statement  in  reply  to  tf  (I 
ner’s  queries : — 

“I  reside  with  my  mother  in  SanpgV 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


•  aving  parted  from  her  some  years 
;.y  father  is  an  author,  and  I  have 
s  dying  law.  I  think  my  father  is 
irty-one  years  old,  but  do  not  know 
;  e  was  born.  My  father  has  not 
ith  my  mother  since  we  left  here 
yirs  ago,  but  he  has  repeatedly  sent 
rdening  and  insulting  letters.  It  is 
i  mrt  time  ago  since  he  threatened  to 
sy  mother  and  myself.  I  shot  him 
sof  this.  Not  long  ago  I  met  him 
3  treet  in  Saratoga,  and  I  then  told 
li  if  he  did  nor  keep  away  from  us, 
u:d  my  mother  any  more,  I  would 
1  n.  I  also  told  him  that  there  were 
is  which  I  would  not  allow  any  man 
i  eyond  with  impunity,  especially 
y  mother  was  being  insulted.  I 
t  his  house  yesterday  and  left  a  note 
ir  to  call  on  me,  which  he  did  this 
ir.  When  he  came  into  the  room  I 
o,  a  revolver  and  told  him  to  prom- 
:  at  he  would  not  threaten  or  insult 
j  ore,  which  he  promised.  Shortly 
del  we  began  speaking  on  family 
r:  and  he  used  some  very  insulting 
a  and  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket 
an  to  draw  out  a  pistol,  when  I  shot 
e  then  came  towards  me  and  I  fired 
oier  shots  at  him.  When  I  fired  the 
h  lie  had  me  by  the  collar.  I  only 
;  is  on  account  of  the  effect  it  will 
o  my  family.  I  would  like  Judge 
mto  know  this,  as  he  was  interested 
!  •  se  before.” 

ej  he  had  answered  the  Coroner’s 
io[,i  Walworth  sent  the  following  des- 
t  Chicago : 

ardin,  162  La  Salle  street,  Cliica- 
;o  - 

o lather  this  morning. 

F.  H.  WALWORTH. 
e]rter  of  the  New  York  Sun  obtain- 
i  erview  with  young  Wal  worth,  and 
e  following  as  the  conversation 
i  ,  curred : 

wr — What  led  you  to  this  dreadful 

h'th — Family  troubles.  It’s  been 
<j  for  some  time,  and  the  story  is  a 

Si 


23 

Reporter— When  did  you  come  to  the 
city? 

Walworth — I  left  Saratoga  yesterday,  and 
arrived  here  at  a  quarter  of  three  in  the 
afternoon. 

Reporter — Excuse  my  asking  the  question 
(here  the  prisoner  looked  hard  at  the  report¬ 
er  and  smiled.  His  smile  is  very  sweet), 
but  did  you  come  here  with  the  intention — 
why  did  you  come  here? 

Walworth — I  cane  here  to  do  what  I  have 
done. 

Reporter — When  you  arrived  here  what 
did  you  do  first? 

Walworth — I  went  straight  to  my  father’s 
boarding-house,  on  Fourth  avenue,  near 
Fifty-second  street. 

Reporter — You  did  not  find  your  father 
in? 

Walworth- — No;  but  I  had  prepared  a 
note,  which  I  left  for  him. 

Reporter — When  your  father  entered  your 
room  this  morning  what  passed  between 
you? 

Walicorth — I  took  out  my  pistol  and 
pointed  it  at  him.  I  said,  “I  want  you  to 
promise  that  you  will  not  threaten  to  shoot 
me  or  my  mother  any  more.” 

Reporter — What  did  he  answer? 

Walworth — He  said,  ‘  ‘  I  will  promise  not 
to  do  so.” 

Reporter — What  did  you  do  then? 

Walicorth — I  said,  “Will  you  promise 
that  you  won’t  insult  me  or  my  mother  any 
more?  In  the  past  you  have  done  it  with 
impunity,  but  you  cannot  do  it  any  more.” 

Reporter — And  what  was  the  reply? 

Walworth — He  said,  ‘  ‘  I  won’t  trouble  you 
any  more.”  Then  I  said,  “  you  have  brok¬ 
en  your  promises  many  times  before.  I  am 
determined  you  shall  keep  them  this  time.' 
Then  I  shot  him. 

Reporter — Did  he  offer  to  defend  himself? 

Walworth — The  last  sho*  I  fired  he  was 
close  up  to  me. 

The  venerable  Judge  Barbour  was  hold-  Ji 
ing  a  court  in  the  Supeiior  Court,  No.  "2, 
when  one  of  the  counsel  stepped  up  to  him 
and  informed  him  of  the  killing  of  Mans¬ 
field  Tracy  Walworth  by  his  son.  Judge 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


24 
»» 

Barbour  immediately  gave  way  to  an  emo¬ 
tion  be  could  not  control.  He  leaned  bis 
bead  on  the  desk ,  for  a  few  moments  and 
then  said: 

“Gentlemen,  we  will  adjourn  the  Court 
for  to-day.” 

He  then  tottered  down  the  steps,  so  that 
he  bad  to  be  helped  out  of  the  court  room. 
He  immediately  took  a  coach,  and,  going 
in  search  of  ex-District  Attorney  Garvin, 
went  in  his  company  to  the  Sturtevant 
House,  where  he  asked  for  the  “boy.” 
When  told  that  he  was  a  prisoner  at  the 
Twenty-ninth  precinct  station  house  he 
asked  where  it  was,  and  immediately  re¬ 
paired  there.  He  entered  the  police  station 
at  one  o’clock,  accompanied  by  ex-District 
Attorney  Garvin. 

After  a  few  words  with  Captain  Burden, 
they  were  admitted  to  the  prisoner’s  cell. 
Judge  Barbour  merely  looked  at  the  prison¬ 
er  and  immediately  quitted  the  cell  without 
speaking.  He  walked  up  and  down  the 
station  while  Mr.  Garvin  was  conversing 
with  the  prisoner.  Mr.  Garvin  was  occu¬ 
pied  with  the  prisoner  nearly  half  an  hour. 

Mr.  William  A.  Beach,  while  in  Court  in 
the  morning,  also  received  a  telegram  from 
Saratoga  .asking  him  to  take  the  case  of 
Frank  H.  Walworth  in  charge,  and  await 
the  arrival  of  his  mother,  Mrs.  Ellen  Har- 
.  den  Walworth,  who  was  expected  to  arrive 
in  New  York  in  the  evening. 

Soon  after  the  interview  with  Mr.  Garvin, 
Frank  Walworth  was  removed  to  the 
Tombs.  Officer  Malony,  who  went  with 
him,  asked  him  several  questions  in  regard 
to  the  murder,  but  he  refused  to  say  any¬ 
thing.  He  smoked  his  segar  and  spoke 
about  the  squares  and  streets  which  they 
passed  and  his  having  forgotten  most  of 
their  names. 

‘  ‘  I  have  seen  a  great  many  murderers,  ” 
the  officer  told  a  Herald  reporter,  “  but  I 
never  saw  one  who  was  so  cool.  s 

just  as  much  excited  as  you  arc  now.” 

Walworth  reached  the  prison  between 
half  past  two  and  three  o’clock.  He  was 
attired  in  a  suit  of  light  colored  spring 
clothing,  and  had  also  a  spring  overcoat  of 


a  light  color  and  texture.  He  ha 
the  appearances  of  a  prisoner 

“You  might  say  he  came  d 
himself,”  said  a  keeper.  “He  i 
free  and  quiet  in  manner.  Then 
excitement  about  him,  and  I  tell 
rare  thing  to  see  a  man  come  in  lie 
and  offhanded  as  he  did.” 

The  prisoner  was  duly  registei ) 
clerk  at  the  desk,  and  in  a  minute  a 
passed  through  the  grated  doors  w ;] 
to  shut  him  out  from  the  world, 
with  a  quick,  thoughtless  pace  thi 
prison  yard,  walked  into  the  me  ; 
building  and  the  clanking  iron  o 
leads  up  to  the  first  iron  gallery  (I 
ridor  was  opened  for  him.  In  trnt 
more  the  door  of  cell  No.  67  was* 
him,  and  he  stepped  inside  wi  n 
hesitation,  being  obliged  to  stooj ai 
tered  in  consequence  of  the  lowntj 
doorway.  This  cell  is  on  the  noij 
of  the  corridor,  on  the  rear  or  li5 
side,  and  was  furnished  Simply  ;lj 
and  stool,  the  bed  being  provide^ 
ordinary  prison  clothing.  The  x 
then  closed  on  him 

After  an  interval  of  about  an  01 
worth  was  removed  to  cell  No.  J 
southern  wing  of  the  corridor,  la 
same  tier.  This  brought  liimat 
neighborhood  of  the  notables  w  o 
1 1  Murderers’  Row,  ”  and  his  fellovojl 
on  the  same  block  of  habitat  a 
Sharkey,  Scanncl,  King,  and  stl 
subjects  of  sanguinary  fame.  Irhn 
also  the  furniture  was  of  the  sift; 
description. 

When  left  alone  Walworth  to  d 
light  overcoat  and  sat  down  on  es 
able  bed,  alone  with  his  though  U 
six  o’clock  he  sat  on  the  bed, hit 
deeply,  but  in  no  wise  depressed  if 
He  made  no  requests  to  the  prise  oi 
for  food  or  extra  pharaphermB  | 
candles  being  the  only  things  Jtl 
him. 

Shortly  before  six  o’clock  tef 
wrote  a  series  of  eight  questio 
prisoner,  which  were  conveyed  M 
one  of  the  keepers,  with  a  requi  tl 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


27 


nojectionable,  he  would  make  either  writ¬ 
er  verbal  reply. 

''hen  the  keeper  presented  the  questions, 
tg;her  with  the  reporter’s  personal  card, 
Tvorth  was  seated  on  the  bed.  Without 
$i£  he  listened  to  the  keeper’s  explana- 
o  ofhis  visit,  then  took  the  paper,  read 
le  uestions  and  the  name  on  the  card,  and 
u.ed  them  back  to  the  keeper  saying: 
Will  you  please  tell  him  that  I  cannot 
as  er  any  questions,  as  I  am  advised  by 
y  ounsel  not  to  hold  any  communication 
it  any  one.” 


II. 


AT  THE  STURTEVANT  HOUSE. 
Lnediately  after  the  shooting,  the  great- 
:t  incitement  prevailed  in  the  Sturtevant 
U3.  The  room  adjoining  that  in  which 
>e  ragedy  was  enacted  was  occupied  by 
[r. forehead.  He  was  aroused  by  a  shot, 
it itly  followed  by  a  shriek  of  murder — 
diek  so  loud  and  terrific  that  it  chilled 
Almost  paralyzed  him.  A  second  shot 
id  second  shriek,  not  loud  but  lull  of 
pling  agony,  rang  out  and  echoed 
ireigh  the  corridor.  A  third  shot  startled 
le  prrified  listeners — for  by  this  time  a 
or  ot  guests  stood  at  their  open  doors 
itl  bleached  faces  and  quaking  forms, 
he: there  was  a  heavy  thud  and  silence! 
Sea  the  door  of  No.  267  was  opened, 


ad 

id 

lost 


young  man,  wearing  a  light  overcoat 
lpine  hat,  stepped  into  the  corridor, 
the  door  after  him,  and  rushed  to¬ 
rt  :he  staircase,  down  which  he  disap- 
ar  It.  The  alarmed  guests  re-entered 
eiiooms,  and  dressed  hurriedly. 

Assoou  as  the  young  man  reached  the 
:rl  desk  and  uttered  the  words,  “I’ve 


rot 


md  killed 


my 


father,”  the  night 


ate  man,  the  steward,  and  the  bell  boy 
up  stairs,  entered  the  chamber,  and 
utcl||ig  one  glimpse  of  the  horrible  truth, 
recjitately  retired. 

watchman  hastened  to  Mr.  Louis 
I ’s  room  and  aroused  him,  informing 
!  at  a  man  was  shot  in  267,  but  that  he 


still  breathed.  Mr.  Leland  told  the  man  to 
run  forthwith  for  Drs.  Childs  and  Mulford. 

On  Mr.  Leland’s  descending  he  went, 
accompanied  by  the  watchman,  to  the  fatal 
room.  Mr.  Morehead  joined  them,  and 
pushing  open  the  door,  Mr.  Leland  entered, 
followed  by  Mr.  Morehead.  The  two  men 
stood  with  suppressed  breath  and  whitened 
lips,  gazing  first  at  the  awful  spectacle  at 
their  feet  and  then  at  each  other  with  mute 
horror.  The  watchman  grasped  the  door 
with  his  trembling  hand,  and  fastened  his 
distended  eyes  upon  the  hideous  sight. 

There,  stretched  out  upon  the  floor,  with 
the  head  against  the  -washstand,  lay  the 
lifeless  form  of  a  strong,  hale,  handsome 
man,  in  the  prime  of  life.  One  hand  was 
thrown  over  his  forehead,  the  other  lay  by 
his  side.  The  following  diagram  exhibits 
the  scene  of  the  murder: 


J 

267 


F 


a 


H 


A.  Door  to  room  where  the  murder  took  place. 

B.  The  washstand. 

C.  The  spot  where  he  stood  when  the  fatal  shots  were 
fired. 

D.  Place  where  he  fell,  with  his  head  resting  in  a  pool 
of  blood. 

E.  Hat  rack. 

F.  The  bed  where  the  murdered  man  was  placed  im¬ 
mediately  after  death. 

G.  Stove. 

H.  Window. 

I.  Spot  where  the  son  stood  when  he  Bhot  his  father. 

J.  HaUway. 


28 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


Blood  was  on  the  face,  the  hands,  and 
hair.  The  marble  top  of  the  washstand  was 
covered  with  clotted  blood,  the  murdered 
man  having  probably  leaned  upon  it  while 
his  lifeblood  was  ebbing  away.  There  was 
also  a  quantity  of  blood  which  had  trickled 
down  the  wall.  But  more  singular  than  this, 
there  was  also  a  quantity  of  blood  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  washstand,  about  three 
feet  away,  where  it  had  apparently  spurted, 
some  being  congealed  on  the  surface  of  the 
marble  and  a  quantity  being  in  a  still  liquid 
condition  under  a  glass  on  the  further  side 
of  the  washstand.  The  soap  dish  was  half 
full  of  blood,  as  was  also  the  toothbrush 
dish,  which  had  mingled  with  the  soap  into 
a  kind  of  frothy  foam.  Where  the  murdered 
man  lay,  there  was  a  large  quantity  of  blood, 
probably  several  quarts,  which  had  run 
through  the  carpet  for  a  space  of  about  two 
feet  in  diameter.  A  towel  also  lay  on  the 
floor,  saturated  with  blood.  Along  the  car¬ 
pet  over  which  the  dead  man  was  carried  to 
the  bed  there  were  spots  of  blood.  A  black 
hat,  surrounded  with  a  three-quarter  mourn¬ 
ing  band,  was  picked  up  and  hung  on  a  peg. 

Dr.  Mulford  and  Dr.  Childs  examined  the 
body  simply  to  satisfy  themselves  that  the 
man  was  dead.  They  found  a  pistol  shot 
wound  in  the  right  breast,  another  in  the 
left  breast  near  the  heart,  another  in  the  left 
arm,  and  another  under  the  right  ear. 

One  of  the  doctors  who  attended  on  the 
murdered  man  said  that  when  he  went  up 
stairs  to  room  267  he  found  Mr.  Walworth 
was  not  yet  dead.  He  was  lying  on  the 
floor  with  his  head  on  the  carpet  and  gasp¬ 
ing.  His  pulse  gave  one  or  two.  pulsations 
when  the  Doctor  took  his  arm  in  his  hand 
and  then  stopped  completely.  Blood  was 
gushing  from  the  wound  in  his  left  breast 
and  from  his  arm.  He  died  in  about  a 
quarter  of  a  minute  after  the  Doctor  went 
into  his  room.  He  was  shortly  after  placed 
upon  the  bed.  The  Doctor  says  that  when 
young  Walworth  was  brought  into  the  room 
he  reported  the  conversation  between  him 
self  and  father  as  follows : — 

Walicorth  the  Son  (standing  before  his 
father) — You  have  again  written  to  my 
mother  threatening  both  her  life  and  my 


own.  Will  you  solemnly  promise  nei 
make  such  threats  again  ? 

Walworth  the  Father — I  do  make  i 
promise. 

Walworth  the  Son — You  have  also  rep  | 
the  insult  made  to  my  mother.  Do 
promise  to  never  use  insulting  langus : 
my  mother  again  ? 

Walworth  the  Father — I  do  make  s  a 
promise. 

Walworth  the  Son —  (drawing  the  re  1 
and  pointing  it  at  his  father) — You  a 
made  that  promise  before,  and  I  do  n  1 
lieve  you.  You  shall  never  have  the  ■> 
tunity  of  doing  so  again. 

And  then  the  firing  took  place,  wit  it 
moment's  interval  of  hesitation. 

When  Coroner  Young  arrived  at  the  ot 
the  undertaker  was  sent  for.  At  abc  to 
o'clock  the  undertakers’  wagon,  from  ni 
&  Benedict’s,  in  Carmine  street,  droi 
to  the  door  of  the  hotel.  The  large  i  « 
fin  was  then  taken  up  stairs  and  th  ■« 
was  speedily  placed  in  it,  just  as  in} 
The  whole  thing  did  not  take  mortis 
fifteen  minutes,  when  the  box,  with  it 
freight,  was  again  placed  in  the 
which  rapidly  drove  away.  When  | 
undertakers’  establishment  it  was  dill 
and  washed  and  placed  in  a  preservi  Q 
fin.  The  face  bore  an  expression  ojl 
suffering;  the  lips  were  slightly  parte  ta 
the  wound  in  the  forehead  plainly  on 
the  terrible  death  he  had  died. 


III. 

HIS  LAST  NIGHT  ON  EARTH. 

Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth,  s)?tia 
last  evening  on  earth  with  his  friends  iflw 
third  street,  between  Lexington  an 
Avenues.  He  was  in  the  habit  ofill* 
frequently  during  leisure  hours  at  th°&‘< 
of  ex-Alderman  Tuomey,  who  keeps  lifS 
stable  in  the  locality,  ahd  from  wffl  kt 
would  frequently  take  a  horse  and 
to  drive.  On  Tuesday  night,  aboi  hw 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


29 


smine  o’clock,  he  came  on  his  quiet, 
sunary  visit,  and  he  and  Mr.  Tuomey 
l;d  around  the  corner  to  the  door  of  Dr. 
rht’s  drug  store.  The  ill-fated  man 
is rore  gloomy,  more  reserved  and  more 
•/(  to  pensive  thought  and  dreamy  reflec- 
rj-  han  usual. 

‘Vewere  together  at  the  door  of  the 
a  store,”  said  Mr.  Tuomey,  “  and.  re- 
lailid  there  until  nearly  ten  o’clock.  He 
.[Walworth)  spoke  as  usual  about  his  writ- 
ig|  for  he  generally  showed  me  the  stories 
hi  1  he  had  written  and  called  my  attention 
oti;  principal  striking  features  of  them.  I 
sk  i  him  how  many  hours  he  devoted  to 
dag  each  day,  and  he  replied,  ‘About 
vt .’  ‘Without  any  recreation?’  ‘Oh, 
s, he  said;  ‘I  take  the  remaining  hours 
>r  creation,  and  look  after  the  publica- 
orof  my  writings  in  the  meantime.  ’  “We 
hephatted,  ”  continued  Mr.  Tuomey,  “over 
he  fist  concert  of  the  Maennerchor,  a  Ger- 
n  musical  association  organized  by  the 
ug  men  of  the  neighborhood,  with  whom 
Ir.pfansfield  associated  a  good  deal,  fre- 
leing  their  clubs  and  entertainments, 
ruby  whom  he  was  not  only  well  thought 
f,  ut  almost  revered,  for  his  gentle  and 
fae  disposition  and  his  kindness  in  very 
ftt  writing  notices  of  their  concerts  and 
leroarties.  To  all  this  he  referred  only  in 
qet,  indifferent  manner  last  evening, 
le  as  often  five  and  seven  minutes  with- 
it  .leaking,  and  it  struck  me  he  was  more 
ooiy  and  troubled  than  he  ever  before 
ip;recl.  He  was  always  amiable  in  con¬ 
n's  ion  and  most  gentlemanly  to  all.  He 
as  ot  an  intemperate  man,  but  would 
eqintly  take  a  quiet  drink,  sometimes 
or  and  often  in  our  company.  lie 
.wjs  looked  neatly  dressed,  yet  there 
asjijomething  in  his  countenance  wi  ich 
relradowed  the  man  with  mystery,  and 
i  s,  perhaps,  on  this  account  that  he 
io||id  on  certain  occasions  slight  traces  of 
issation,  I  do  not  say  from  drink — it 
layave  been  from  secret  troubles  or  con- 
nvl  writing  or  reading.  He  was  about 
repeet  nine  inches  high  and  weighed 
one  hundred  and  ninety  pounds,  and 
J  id  a  few  of  us,  a  short  time  ago,  that 


he  was  between  forty-one  and  forty-two 
years  of  age.  His  deportment  was  always 
gentlemanly.  He  used  to  walk  across  here 
by  Fifty-third  street  almost  every  evening 
in  a  sad,  pensive  manner.  In  conversation 
he  was  more  of  an  observer  and  thinker 
than  a  conversationalist.  He  took  the  last 
glass  of  beer  with  me — it  was  a  glass  of 
root  beer — in  the  drug  store.  He  had  been 
asked  to  drink  several  times  afterward  and 
before,  but  he  refused.  He  seemed  envel¬ 
oped  in  thought  for  a  long  while.  He  had 
possibly  his  son’s  letter  in  his  pocket,  and 
was  deliberating  over  what  was  best  to  be 
done.  He  never  spoke  to  me  of  his  family. 
He  mentioned  something  of  his  father,  at 
one  time,  but  so  brief  and  indistinctly  that 
we  never  thought  over  it.  There  was  al¬ 
ways  something  mysterious  about  him, 
though  he  enjoyed  and  took  part  in  a  joke 
as  well  as  others.  We,  of  course — I  mean 
Drs.  Laber  and  Kirsclit,  Mr.  Robinson  and 
myself — knew  him  during  the  past  couple 
of  years,  and  enjoyed  his  refined  conversa¬ 
tion  and  acquaintanceship  exceedingly. 
We  attributed  his  quiet,  characteristic, 
and  I  might  add  unfathomable  manner  to 
those  peculiarities  which  are  generally  no¬ 
ticed  in  men  of  talent,  consequently  we 
neither  knew  his  feelings,  nor  did  we  think 
there  was  any  occasion  to  interpret  them. 
He  was  fond  of  retirement  and  loneliness 
to  a  great  extent.  He  told  me  he  spent  a 
pleasant  afternoon  in  Jones’  Wood,  and 
that  he  enjoyed  the  cool  breeze  of  the 
groves  very  much,  and  that,  although  he 
was  not  exactly  fatigued,  he  felt  somewhat 
dull.  He  brought  in  the  paper  generally  to 
me  on  which  his  late  story  has  appeared. 
In  the  last  chapter  you  can  see  he  almost 
predicted  his  own  death,  and  the  last 
words  of  it  are  very  singular,  and  savor  of 
some  prescienee  of  his  unhappy  fate.” 

Mr.  Robinson,  a  gentleman  resident  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Fifty-third  Street  and 
Third  avenue,  said  that  Walworth  on  Mon¬ 
day  evening-  chatted  very  freely  with  him. 
He  said,  “I  asked  him  to  drink  some  root 
beer,  but  he  would  not.  He  only  drank  that 
one  glass  he  took  with  Tuomy.  But  I’ll 
tell  you  what  he  did.  He  recited  some 


30 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


beautiful  lines  of  poetry,  I  forget  them 
now,  and  repeated  them  very  feelingly.  I 
know  the  last  words ;  they  were,  ‘  Beware, 
take  care.’  He  said  these  words  twice  be¬ 
fore  lie  left  us,  but  we  didn’t  mind  him,  at 
least  I  didn’t,  and  then  he  said  ‘good 
night’  and  went  out  and  turned  the  corner 
up  towards  Lexington  avenue.” 


IT. 


THE  NEWS  IN  SARATOGA  AND  CHICAGO. 


The  news  of  the  murder  was  rapidly 
spread  by  the  telegraph  throughout  the 
country,  and  everywhere  created  the  most 
profound  sensation.  Where  the  persons 
connected  with  the  tragedy  were  known, 
the  excitement  was  painfully  intense. 

In  Saratoga  the  report  of  the  shooting 
spread  like  wildfire.  A  crowd  gathered 
about  the  telegraph  offices,  and  excited  com¬ 
ments  were  made  on  the  affair.  The  news 
was  conveyed  to  Mrs.  Walworth  by  W.  B. 
French  and  D.  F.  Richie,  friends  of  hers. 
They  called  together  and  found  her  engag¬ 
ed  in  her  school.  They  broke  the  sad  intel¬ 
ligence,  which  shocked  her  at  first,  but  she 
soon  recovered  and  expressed  concern  for 
her  boy,  requesting  her  informants  at  once 
to  telegraph  to  Charles  O'Conor  and  other 
legal  friends  to  aid  in  defending  him. 


It  was  stated  that  Mrs.  Walworth  had  no 
intimation  whatever  of  the  tragedy  further 
than  this: — On  Monday  she  found  that 
Frank,  her  son,  had  left  home,  leaving 
word  that  if  he  was  not  home  to  tea  he 
would  not  be  back  that  night.  On  going 
to  his  room  Mrs.  AY alworth  found  a  couple 
of  empty  envelopes  lying  on  the  table,  ad¬ 
dressed  to  her  son  in  M.  T.  Walworth’s 
handwriting,  but  found  no  clue  as  to 
whither  he  had  gone.  It  is  said,  however, 
that  young  Walworth  told  Mr.  W.  Barbour, 
his  confidential  friend,  that  he  was  going 
to  Troy.  He  said  nothing  about  going  to 
New  York,  and  until  the  news  of  the  shoot¬ 
ing  came  to  Saratoga,  his  whereabouts  was 
unknown  to  his  mother  or  friends  there. 


In  Chicago  the  news  of  the  sad  and  c  i 
ordinary  tragedy  created  great  excite 
when  it  became  known  who  w'ere  the  | 
tives  of  the  actors  in  the  affair. 

Mrs.  Walworth,  widow  of  the  Chanc  i 
and  stepmother  of  the  deceased,  had  < 
in  that  city  for  several  months,  residi  i 
the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  the  guest  c  u 
sou.  She  immediately  left  Chicagii 
Saratoga,  to  care  for  and  share  the  s » 
ings  of  her  daughter,  as  only  a  mother  j 
and  was  so  overwhelmed  with  grief  th;  1 
was  scarcely  able  to  go. 


T. 

IN  THE  TOMBS. 

Not  since  the  memorable  day  succe<nj 
the  shooting  of  Colonel  Fisk  has  there  :a 
so  much  excitement  around  and  aboidi 
Tombs  as  there  was  on  the  4th  of  ne 
The  cause  of  the  unusual  rush  of  vi  or 
was  to  see  young  Walworth;  but  in  hi 
desire  all,  with  the  exception  of  a  fewiti 
mate  friends,  were  disappointed.  Thun 
fortunate  boy  sat  in  his  lonely  cell  ithi 
Tombs,  but  showed  no  signs  of  a  dop 
ing  spirit.  The  prisoner  ate  his  meals  ill 
regularity,  and  conversed  rationally  iti 
the  keepers  of  the  prison  whenever  tail 
duties  called  them  into  his  cell. 

About  half  past  ten  o'clock  a  clos<an 
riage  drove  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  T-taj 
and  Judge  Barbour,  accom  anied  by  radl 
wearing  a  heavy  veil,  alighted  from  iiM 
passed  in.  The  lady  was  Mrs.  Walvtli< 
She  appears  to  be  about  thirty-eight  eaa 
of  age,  and  much  of  the  beauty  win  in 
her  youth  made  her  so  much  admirei  iill 
remains. 

Mark  Finlay  was  present  at  the  lrninf 
between  the  mother  and  son,  and  he  sb 
was  most  affecting.  There  were  nopal 
shed.  Theirs  was  not  the  grief  thainufi 
vent  in  weeping.  The  mother  einheedj 
the  boy;  the  embrace  was  rcturncilMl 
for  nearly  a  moment  not  a  word  was 
on  either  side.  There  was  nocxtraonaaij 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


SI 


n  ion,  and  each  probably  felt  that  grief 
u  for  the  present  be  laid  aside  and  the 
c:  reality  looked  in  the  face. 

Te  conversation  which  took  place  be- 
them  was,  of  course,  private;  but 
,ug  Walworth  could  be  seen  gesticulat- 
gnd  talking  in  a  very  animated  manner. 
r$  Walworth  eagerly  watched  him,  and 
c  ionally  at  some  remark  of  his  would 
d  smile;  but  she  was  frequently  over- 
jn  by  some  reference  of  his,  and  dropped 
r  ead  upon  his  hands. 

J  Ige  Barbour  remained  in  the  prison  for 
o  ,  half  an  hour  and  then  drove  away, 
avur  Mrs.  Walworth  with  her  son.  She 
■nned  with  him  in  the  prison  for 
aw  two  hours,  and  then,  bidding  the  boy 
lo:ng  farewell,  she  left. 

M  Charles  O’Conor  also  called  during 
ie  ty,  as  did  Judge  Garvin,  and  both  of 
erlhad  interviews  with  the  prisoner. 

M  Beach  visited  the  prison,  and  had  a 
irrsation  with  the  boy  in  the  morning. 
T  prison  officials  said  that  the  bearing 
yang  Walworth  was  brave  andundaunt- 
,al  they  strongly  sympathized  with  him. 
Tire  were  several  young  men  admitted 
ri;  the  day,  friends  of  the  prisoner,  one 
tlm  from  Saratoga.  They  were  admit- 
d  id  remained  for  some  time, 
if  die  advice  of  counsel,  Walworth  re- 
se<  to  converse  about  the  murder  or  see 
■y  hangers  or  reporters. 

AJ];r  his  visit  to  the  Tombs,  Mr.  Garvin 
ilia  Herald  reporter  that  he  had  seen 
i  ient  and  counselled  him  to  be  very 
tient  of  speech;  to  refuse  steadily  to 
•  ierviewed,  and  to  keep  himself 
net  “In  reference  to  interviewing,  as 
7 tailed,”  said  Mr.  Garvin,  “several 
wsjiper  men  have  sought  to  obtain  per- 
issh  from  me  to  see  the  prisoner  for  the 
■rpjc  of  ‘interviewing’  him.  I  have 
liWnly  refused  it.  What  can  a  man  in 
is  p  ition  say  that  is  of  any  value  to  any- 
>dj!  He  is  in  a  state  of  mind  that  makes 
is  i dements  utterly  irresponsible.”  As 
th  tragedy  itself,  the  cause  of  it,  the 
inti  is  of  deceased  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
en,|  Judge  Garvin  declined  to  say  any- 
ing 


Mr.  O’Conor  was  also  called  upon,  “You 
had  an  interview  ”  said  the  reporter,  “with 
Mr.  Frank  H.  Walworth  this  morning  at 
the  Tombs,  I  presume,  Mr.  O’Conor.  How 
does  lie  seem  to  bear  it?” 

“Bravely  and  quietly,  with  a  calmness 
that  is  certainly  remarkable.  There  is  not 
the  slightest  indication  of  fear  and  scarcely 
of  sorrow.” 

“  Is  not  tlia*  a  strange  condition  for  a 
young  man  placed  in  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  is?” 

“Not  so  strange  as  it  might  seem  at  first 
sight.  It  is  the  soldier  spirit  and  blood 
that  are  in  him.  General  Hardin  was  a 
fine  soldier,  as  brave  as  Julius  Caesar;  he 
was  killed  in  the  Mexican  war.  This  boj 
has  much  of  his  grandfather’s  spirit  in  hims 
and  shows  that  he  has  in  his  present  very 
serious  position.” 


YI. 

TIIE  POST  MORTEM  EXAMINATION. 

At  eleven  o’clock  on  Wednesday  morn 
ing  Coroner  Young  and  his  Deputy,  Dr.  E. 
T.  T.  Marsh,  proceeded  to  impannel  a  jury 
at  No.  GO  Carmine  street,  and  make  a  post 
mortem  examination  in  the  case  of  Mr. 
Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth. 

Coroner  Young  empannellea  and  swore 
in  the  following  named  gentlemen  to  act  as 
jurors  in  the  inquest: — John  Y.  Reynolds, 
foreman,  attorney ;  Thomas  C.  Knox,  physi¬ 
cian;  John  B.  Gilman,  agent;  F.  C.  Senior, 
undertaker;  Jotham  Clark,  retired;  Ferdi¬ 
nand  A.  Eibell,  livery. 

Deputy  Coronor  Marsh  made  a  post  mor¬ 
tem  examination  on  the  body,  assisted  by 
Doctors  Finnell,  O’Hanlon,  Ivnox,  S.  J. 
Clark  and  others,  which  lasted  nearly  two 
hours. 

The  following  is  a  report  of  the  autopsy 
made  by  Dr.  Marsh  and  those  associated 
with  him: — 

A  pistol-shot  wound  of  outside  of  the 
left  arm,  one-quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter, 
was  found  four  inches  below  the  acromion 


32 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


process ;  another  of  right  side  of  face,  one 
quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  close  to  and 
on  a  line  with  the  lower  border  of  the  ear, 
the  skin  around  the  wound,  for  a  distance 
of  two  inches,  being  blackened  and  filled 
with  powder;  a  similar  wound  of  the  left 
side  of  the  chest,  three  and  a  half  inches 
to  the  left  of  the  median  line  of  the  body 
and  six  inches  above  the  nipple,  on  a  direct 
line,  the  edges  of  the  wound  being  ragged 
and  ecchymotic;  also  a  pistol-shot  wound 
of  the  right  side  of  the  chest,  half  an  inch 
in  diameter,  situated  one  and  a  half  inches 
to  the  right  of  the  median  line  and  two 
inches  below  the  nipple.  The  direction  of 
the  latter  wound  was  downwards,  back¬ 
wards  and  to  the  right ;  that  of  the  face  was 
on  a  straight  line  toward  the  left  a  distance 
of  four  inches. 

On  opening  the  body  the  left  side  of  the 
chest  was  found  to  be  filled  with  fluid  and 
clotted  blood.  The  ball  on  this  side  of  the 
chest  entered  between  the  second  and  third 
ribs,  passed  through  the  upper  lobe  of  the 
left  lung,  and  was  found  imbedded  in  the 
body  of  the  second  dorsal  vertebrae.  The 
ball  which  entered  the  right  'side  of  the 
chest  struck  and  fractured  the  sixth  rib, 
and  then  glancing  it  passed  to  a  point  four 
and  three-quarter  inches  from  the  point  of 
entrance,  where  it  was  found  imbedded  in 
the  muscles  of  the  chest.  The  ball  which 
entered  the  right  side  of  the  face  in  its 
course  fractured  the  lower  jaw  at  its  angle, 
and  also  the  upper  jawbone,  and  lodged  in 
the  left  side.  The  ball  which  entered  the 
arm  shattered  the  upper  portion  of  the 
humerus  and  lodged  in  the  biceps  muscle. 

All  of  the  internal  organs  were  examined 
and  found  to  be  healthy.  Death  was  due 
to  shock  and  internal  hemorrhage  from  pis¬ 
tol  shot  wounds  received — the  internal 
hemorrhage  resulting  from  the  wound  of 
the  left  side  of  the  chest.  All  the  bullets 
found  in  the  body  were  round  ones.  Had 
deceased  lived  it  would  have  been  absolutely 
necessary  to  amputate  the  left  arm  at  the 
shoulder  joint.  The  wound  necessarily 
fatal  was  that  in  the  left  breast.  Deceased 
possibly  might  have  recovered  from  the 
wound  of  the  face,  as  the  brain  was  unin¬ 


jured  by  the  ball ;  the  bullet  in  the  face 
not  removed,  as  it  would  have  necessii 
great  disfigurement.  There  was  ; 
trouble  experienced  by  the  physiciai 
tracing  the  fatal  bullet  on  the  left  sir 
the  chest. 


Til. 

THE  FUNERAL. 

The  body  of  Mansfield  T.  Walwort  j 
at  the  undertakers’  in  Carmine  Street )] 
the  day  of  the  tragedy  until  the  F.s 
morning  following.  On  Wednesday  n 
Thursday  an  officer  was  stationed  in  n 
of  the  undertakers’  store  to  keep  olH 
crowds  who  had  previously  blocked  v  tl 
pathway  and  obstructed  travel. 

On  Friday  morning  preparations  a 
made  for  the  removal  of  the  remai  t 
Saratoga.  The  coffin  bore  an  inscriio 
giving  the  name  of  the  deceased,  wit  th 
date  of  his  birth  and  death.  He  was  or 
in  1S30,  and  at  the  time  of  his  deatlsri 
forty-three  years  of  age.  His  face,  tbg 
somewhat  disfigured  and  decomposers 
presented  many  traces  of  the  manly  Ira 
for  which  in  his  early  days  he  had*ea 
celebrated;  and  an  idea  could  be  foied 
looking  at  him  cold  in  the  coffin,  <||f 
immense  muscular  power  and  activil!  i 
bouquet  had  been  placed  upon  the  XU 
and  a  beautiful  wreath  of  tuberosesipoi 
the  coffin.  Though  the  deceasedhlj 
ostensibly  died  in  the  profession  cjjtlx 
Catholic  religion,  none  of  the  re  ioil 
services  of  his  church  were  held  up'  tlK 
occasion,  the  only  ceremony  over  te  l| 
mains  being  a  short  and  impressive  ] »y er, 
which  was  offered  by  the  Kev.  JamcLuqj 
low,  of  the  first  Presbyterian  elm  h 
New  York. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  servidw 
body  was  placed. in  a  handsome  lieai! MS 
removed  to  the  Grand  Central  dep.j|l 
left  New  York  by  the  eight  o'clock  r»i|| 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Clarence  Jen  as,  4 
nephew  of  Mr.  Walworth. 


FRANK  H.  WALWORTH. 


I; 


tfei-jw 


♦ 


i 


TIIE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


85 


:•  Walworth  had  left  New  York  on 
r  lay  evening  for  Albany  by  the  steamer 
;  People's  line.  She  left  New  York 
t!  purpose  of  attending  the  funeral, 
ii  remains  reached  Saratoga  by  the  3.10 
[.  rain.  When  the  train  came  in  there 
:  [great  crowd  at  the  depot, 
h  large  pine  box  containing  the  coffin 
crpse  having  been  conveyed  from  the 
;i>  car  to  the  hearse,  the  funeral  cor- 
.  rocccded  to  the  cemetery.  rrherc 
e  jout  a  dozen  carriages  in  line. 

..  [olrncs,  undertaker  of  Saratoga,  had 
vr  of  the  burial.  The  bearers  were 
ic  W.  Ilill,  L.  Varney,  P.  II.  Cowcn. 

I  French,  II.  II.  Peters,  John  Foley, 
u Putnam,  and  William  C.  Barrett. 

h  carriage  immediately  following  the 
rs  contained  Mrs.  E.  II.  Walworth,  the 
\  Father  Walworth,  the  Ilcv.  Mr. 
k.  of  Schenectady,  and  Tracy  Wal- 
■tl  the  youngest  brother  of  Frank,  a 
o  fieven. 

tlr  carriages  contained  relatives  both  of 
d. eased  and  of  Mrs.  E.-II.  Walworth. 

'!;  remains  were  interred  in  the  Wal- 
t!  plot  in  Grcenridge  Cemetery,  situ- 
1 1st  in  the  suburbs  of  Saratoga.  The 
:  about  twenty  feet  square,  and  is 
■o  idcd  by  an  iron  picket  fence,  firmly 
ci  cd  in  a  granite  foundation.  It  is 
all  on  the  highest  jioint  near  the  cen- 
o  the  cemetery,  and  on  a  side  hill 
)ii  abruptly  to  the  north.  It  is  bcau- 

II  i  shaded  with  large,  old  pine  trees, 
hcentre  of  the  plot  is  a  massive  granite 
uient,  broad,  but  not  high,  on  the 
tlind  south  sides  of  which  is  the  sim- 
n  ic,  “Walworth,”  in  bold  relief.  On 
c  t  side  is  the  inscription:  “  Iteuben 
I  c, ml  worth ;  died  20th  of  November, 
3,  ged  79.”  On  the  west  front  is  this 
ri  ion,  “Maria  II.  Averill,  wife  of  R. 
V  worth ;  died  2Cth  of  April,  1847, 
b.” 


V 

Cl, 
rs '' 

til* 

10 

an 


;s  quiet  spot,  sacred  to  the  memory 
icelor  Walworth,  and  for  so  many 
c  last  resting  place  of  the  remains 
first  wife  of  that  able  jurist,  the 
of  “Warwick”  and  “Beverly”  and 
i  domestic  misery  was  buried. 


The  services  at  the  grave  were  short  and 
simple.  They  were  conducted  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Camp,  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  he 
was  silentlv  attended  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  New¬ 
man,  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  both  of 
Saratoga. 

During  the  religious  service  the  plot  was 
occupied  by  the  relatives  both  of  the  dead 
and  of  the  living.  The  widow,  holding 
her  youngest  son  by  the  hand,  leaned  upon 
the  arm  of  the  Rev.  Father  Walworth, 
brother  of  the  deceased,  and  her  mother, 
the  venerable  widow  of  the  late  Chancellor, 
was  attended  by  O.  L.  Barbour,  Esq.,  of 
Saratoga.  Mrs.  G.  M.  Davison,  of  Saratoga, 
a  sister  of  the  deceased,  leaning  upon  the 
arm  of  her  husband,  stood  in  the  midst  of 
her  fine  family  of  children.  There  were 
also  members’  of  the  family  of  O.  L.  Bar¬ 
bour,  and  a  few  other  relatives  of  deceased 
present. 

The  tone  of  the  funeral  was  distant,  but 
not  cold.  Other  than  a  respectful  bearing 
and  a  mournful  silence,  there  were  no  mani¬ 
festations  of  grief.  The  only  thing  which 
relieved  the  sombre  solemnity  of  the  occa¬ 
sion  was  a  wreath  of  white  flowers,  slightly 
intermixed  with  green  leaves,  which  rested 
upon  the  coffin  box.  and  which  was  de¬ 
posited  in  the  grave  with  the  corpse. 

So  ended  the  closing  scene  in  the  life  of 
Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth,  returning  a 
corpse,  murdered  by  the  hand  of  his  own 
son,  to  the  spot  where  his  childhood  and 
youth  were  passed,  and  where  his  father 
long  lived,  known  and  respected  by  all. 


Till. 

THE  CORONER’S  INQUEST. 

TnE  inquest  concerning  the  death  of 
Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth,  was  held  on 
Friday,  June  Cth,  in  the  Thirtieth  street  1 
Police  Station.  Half  past  ten  was  the  time 
fixed,  but  the  inquest  was  not  begun  until 
twelve  o’clock.  Coroner  Young,  Deputy 
Coroner  Marsh,  District  Attorney  Phelps 


36 


TIIE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


and  the  jury  were  punctual,  but  the 
prisoner  was  absent.  Two  officers  bad 
been  dispatched  to  bring  him  up,  but  there 
was  no  appearance  of  them  either.  Eleven 
o'clock  came  and  half-past  eleven,  anu  still 
there  was  no  appearance  of  young  Wal¬ 
worth,  and  the  crowd  of  people  who  were 
awaiting  his  arrival  were  scattered  through 
the  station  house  and  on  the  street,  eagerly 
looking  for  him.  The  delay  seemed  so 
strange  and  unaccountable  that  many  per¬ 
sons  thought  something  serious  had  oc¬ 
curred,  and,  to  allay  their  anxiety,  Coroner 
Young  telegraphed  to  the  Sixth  precinct 
station  house  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the 
delay.  An  answer  soon  came,  saying  that 
the  prisoner  had  left  the  Tombs  in  charge 
of  two  sergeants,  and  was  on  his  way 
up.  Precisely  at  twelve  o’clock  there 
was  a  rush  made  towards  the  room  where 
the  inquest  was  to  be  ncld,  and  it  was 
announced  that  young  Walworth  was  com¬ 
ing.  In  a  minute  after  a  coach  drove  up, 
and  from  it  there  then  ted  the  prisoner, 
in  charge  of  Sergeant.  lllins  and  Keating, 
Mr.  Charles  O’Conor  and  ex-District  At¬ 
torney  Garvin.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon 
the  youth  as  he  approached,  but  he  appear¬ 
ed  cool  and  unconcerned.  lie  walked  into 
the  station  house  with  a  careless,  jaunty 
walk,  and  took  a  seat  at  the  table  beside 
the  coroner.  He  is  only  nineteen  years  of 
age,  but  looks  somewhat  older. 

The  jurors  answered  to  their  names  as 
follows:  John  B.  Gilman,  agent;  Thos.  C. 
Knox,  physician;  John  B.  Reynolds,  at¬ 
torney;  Frank  C.  Senior,  undertaker;  Jo- 
tham  Clark,  retired;  and  Ferdinand  A. 
Eibell,  livery  stable  keeper.  The  Coroner 
reminded  them  of  their  oath  in  a  few  words, 
and  then  at  once  proceeded  with  the  in¬ 
vestigation. 

It  was  seldom  that  such  an  array  of  talent 
could  be  seen  at  a  Coroner’s  inquest  as 
gathered  together  at  this  one.  Dist.  Att. 

o  o 

Phelps  represented  the  State  alone ;  but 
for  the  prisoner  there  appeared  Charles 
O’Conor,  who  occupied  a  seat  beside  his 
unhappy  client,  Mr.  Garvin  and  Mr.  Miles 
A.  Beach. 

The  morning  was  beautiful  and  bright 


before  the  inquest  opened,  but  the 
into  the  dark  tragedy  had  not  proccc 
when  the  sky  suddenly  became  o  I 
and  vivid  flashes  of  lightning  peil 
into  the  room,  accompanied  by  ; 
thunder-claps.  The  rain  poured  (’  | 
torrents,  and  the  room  became  so  d:  | 
gas  had  finally  to  be  lighted.  It’i 
by  many  that  there  was  something  t 
tious  in  the  angry  elements,  and  tl  1 
certainly  in  consonance  with  the! 
tale  of  parricide  which  was  givci  o 
jury  by  the  witnesses. 

All  through  the  investigation  the  i 
remained  sitting  in  the  same  position 
times  drumming  upon  the  table  'li 
fingers,  and  occasionally  whispering 
O’Conor,  who  was  eagerly  watcld 
case  as  it  proceeded.  He  paid  a 
attention  to  whatever  Mr.  O’Con  { 
and  eagerly  complied  with  his  gl 
wish. 

While  one  of  the  witnesses,  M  1 
head,  was  detailing  to  the  jurywh.il 
heard  on  the  morning  of  the  niuetj 
by  direction  of  Coroner  1  oung,  i  iB 
in  a  rather  dramatic  manner,  by  ap| 
his  hands,  the  intervals  which  tc.j 
between  the  shots,  the  prisoner  s  ne 
be  slightly  agitated,  but  the  feeigi 
only  momentary  and  soon  passed  an 

One  of  the  witnesses,  Mr.  Ban 
cashier  of  the  Sturtevant  house,  hi 
appeared  to  testify,  shook  the  pr'BB 
the  hand,  and  seemed  very  much  ec« 

There  was  very  little  interfere*! 
counsel  on  either  si  tie,  but  Mr.  TO 
once  or  twice  took  exception  to  t'  rep 
of  Dr.  Marsh  as  they  were  read, 
to  have  alterations  made. 

It  was  expected  that  the  inqu<  w 
occupy  only  a  couple  of  hours,  B 
not  conclude  until  nearly  five  o’clk..J 

After  the  witnesses  had  been  cxriaef 
jury  retired.  They  did  not  remaiouti 
ten  minutes.  When  they  had  ret  an 
taken  their  seats  the  Coroner  asd  I 
the  usual  questions.  The  prisoncgl*^ 
carelessly  at  them  and  seemed  pe:cJM 
concerned  as  to  what  their  decist  4 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


37 


coreman  of  the  jury,  Mr.  Reynolds, 
,1  fitly  tremulous  voice,  read  the  fol- 
l'verdict : — 

ft  find  that  Mansfield  T.  Walworth 
his  death  from  a  shock  and  inter- 
eorrhage,  the  result  of  a  pistol  shot 
ic  of  the  chest,  said  pistol  having 
■  scharged  at  the  hands  of  Frank  II. 
wth,  at  the  Sturtevant  House,  New 
,  n  Tuesday  morning,  June  3,  1873.” 
eoronerthen,  amid  breathless  silence, 
ef.'d  the  prisoner.  lie  said  to  him  : 
fl  first  four  questions  I  have  to  ask 
Eli  matters  of  form ;  the  fifth  one  1 
d,c  you  you  are  at  liberty  to  answer 
t(>  you  please.” 

lllorth  looked  calmly  at  the  Coroner 

uded  his  head. 

ner — What  is  your  name? 

is'.er — (in  a  firm,  sweet,  clear  voice) 

kk.  Walworth. 

c  was  a  flutter  of  excitement  in  the 
;  he  was  speaking,  and  every  one 
1  pressed  forward  to  hear  what  lie 
J  ly. 

rirr — What  is  your  age? 
is  er — Nineteen. 

fezr — Where  were  you  born  and 
e  o  you  reside? 

is  cr — I  was  born  i:i  Saratoga  and 
cdthcrc. 

rar — What  is  your  occupation? 
is\er — I  have  none  at  present. 

%’>■ — The  question  I  how  ask  you 
a, answer  or  not  as  you  please.  What 
>i mow  of  this  case? 
e  irisoncr  consulted  a  moment  with 
)';>nor  and  then  said  in  a  calm  voice: 
i  guilty  of  no  crime.  I  wish  to 
statement.” 

Ion  pulled  a  paper  from  his  pocket 
e;  his  statement  in  a  firm  tone,  paus- 
'■>  low  the  reporters  and  Dr.  Marsh 
tc  write  it  down.  His  coolness  was 
o  inary.  The  following  is  the  state- 

|| 

father  treated  my  mother  very 
h  or  years,  incensed  against  his  own 
r  r  putting  his  little  share  of  the 
■r  in  trust,  so  that  my  mother  and 
u:  y  got  something  out  of  it.  My 


father  kept  writing  letters  to  my  mother 
full  of  imprecations  against  his  father. 
He  wrote  to  her,  among  other  things : — ‘I 
will  kill  your  boys  and  defeat  the  damned 
scoundrel  in  his  grave  and  cut  ofFliis  damned 
name  forever.’  He  also  threatened  my 
mother's  life,  and. spoke  of  shots  being  sud¬ 
denly  heard,  from  his  resentment.  About 
three  years  ago  he  beat  my  mother  cruelly. 
I  was  not  present,  but  I  saw  the  marks. 
When  I  heard  this  I  loaded  a  pistol  belong¬ 
ing  to  a  cousin  of  mine,  and  have  carried 
it.  I  supposed  my  rather  was  armed,  at 
least  when  he  intended  to  see  us.  My  uncle, 
Clarence  Walworth,  lias  been  as  a  father  to 
me.  He  recently  proposed  to  take  me  to 
Europe  with  him.  I  was  troubled  about 
leaving  my  mother  without  a  protector. 
On  Sunday  last  I  wrote  thus  to  my  uncle, 
and  that  I  must  go  and  see  my  father,  and 
whether  I  would  go  to  Europe  or  not  would 
depend  upon  that  interview.  In  fact,  I 
wanted  to  get  reliable  assurances  that  he 
would  not  molest  my  mother  during  my 
absence.  I  had  no  intention  of  hiding  him. 
When  he  came-  into  my  room  I  asked  him 
to  sit  down;  lie  did  so.  I  spoke  to  him  of 
his  conduct  and  said,  ‘Promise  me  that 
you  will  neither  threaten  my  mother  nor 
insult  her  or  any  of  the  family  any  further.’ 
He  answered  me,  ‘I  promise,’  but  with  a 
look  -which  to  my  mind  implied  contempt, 
and  the  reverse  of  an  intent  to  kccji  the 
promise.  lie  had  just  before  put  his  hand 
up  to  his  breast,  as  if  to  pull  but  a  pistol. 

1  am  unconscious  of  having  fired  more  than 
three  times.  He  closed  on  me  rapidly. 
Ilis  grasp  was  upon  me  whfin  T  fired  the  last 
time.  I  do  not  think  he  said  anything 
during  the  whole  interview  except  what  I 
have  stated." 

When  the  prisoner  had  concluded  the 
reading  of  this  extraordinary  statement  he 
folded  the  paper  up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket 
again.  The  reading  produced  a  most  pain¬ 
ful  impression  in  the  crowded  room,  and 
there  was  quite  a  revulsion  of  feeling 
against  the  prisoner,  who  so  coolly  spoke 
of  taking  away  a  father’s  life  in  what  seem¬ 
ed  to  be,  from  his  own  statement,  such, 
slender  provocation. 


88 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


When  lie  had  finished  reading  the  Coro¬ 
ner  said : 

“Frank  II.  Walworth,  I  will  commit  you 
to  the  Tombs  to  await  the  action  of  the 
Grand  Jury.” 

Mr.  O'Conor  then  said,  “I  suppose  we 
arc  done  to-day,  Mr.  Coroner, ’’and  then  the 
crowd  filed  out  into  the  street.  The  prison¬ 
er.  in  cv’.r.'vt”;:  v  Hi  1  is  counsel,  walked  to 
the  door,  escorted  by  a  policeman,  and  took 
a  scat  in  the  carriage,  and  was  rapidly  driven 
to  the  Tombs. 


IX. 

THE  INDICTMENT. 

On  Monday  morning,  June  Cth,  the  Grand 
Jury  of  the  Oyer  and  Terminer  filed  into 
their  seats  in  their  room  in  the  County  Court 
Ilouse  at  half-past  ten  o’clock.  Shortly 
after  meeting  and  while  transacting  some 
minor  business  the  District  Attorney  sent  in¬ 
to  the  jury  room  the  papers  relative  to  the 
.  Walworth  case.  The  Grand  Jury  immedi¬ 
ately  gavo  the  case  its  exclusive  attention 
and  the  witnesses  were  called.  The  exami¬ 
nation  did  not  take  more  than  two  hours 
in  all,  after  which  the  sentiment  of  the 
Grand  Jury  was  taken,  and  it  was  found 
that  the  jurymen  were  unanimously  in  favor 
of  an  indictment  for  murder  in  the  first 
■  degree.  The  bill  was  then  ordered  to  be 
made  out. 

The  following  arc  the  names  of  the  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Grand  Jury  which  ordered  this 
bill :  Charles  Patrick  (foreman),  Sam.  W. 
Millbank,  Edgar  Wiight,  Francis  Endicott, 
Samuel  Sproulls.  William  L.  Vandervorst, 
Sylvester  W.  Comstock,  William  Clarkson, 
James  T.  Tailor,  James  A.  Hearn.  William 
J.  Blair,  Courtlant  Schuyler,  Frederick 
Ward,  Theodore  Martin,  Edmund  D.  Sax¬ 
ton,  Jesse  Oakley,  George  Ilurst,  Jonathan 
L.  Hyde,  William  S.  Corwin,  Henry  M. 
Lahcr,  Elisha  Brooks,  Edward  S.  Snclling. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  June  11th, 
Judge  Ingraham  opened  the  court  of  Oyer 
and  Terminer,  acting  as  presiding  judge 


in  the  temporary  absence  of  Judge 
holding  the  current  term  of  the 
The  court  room  was  crowded  ia  ar. 
tion  of  the  arraingment  of  WaUvort 
great  anxiety  was  manifested  to  si 
prisoner.  By  direction  of  the  D 
Attorney,  Walworth  was  early  cor 
from  the  Tombs  in  a  close  carriage  ar 
some  time  previous  to  the  opening 
Court  was  detained  in  Sheriii’  ike 
private  office.  When  brought  into 
he  took  the  seat  to  which  he  was  me 
by  the  Sheriff s  deputy  with  an  air 
greatest  unconcern.  He  conversed  i 
and  with  ease  with  his  counsel,  cxi 
Garvin  and  W.  A.  Beach,  and  wit ; 
oth.er  who  chose  to  address  him.  Hij 
ed  to  listen  anxiously  to  the  song 
court  crier  as  lie  formally  opened  t’j 
cccdings,  and  next  directed  his  gaze  .1 
ly  at  the  District  Attorney  as  he  mol 
the  cause. 

The  District  Attorney  arose,  and  la 
at  the  indictment,  said  he  desired  hi 
the  prisoner  plead. 

Cleric — Prisoner,  stand  up.  You  f 
dieted  for  murder  in  the  first  dc;« 
having  caused  the  death  of  MansfickJ 
Walworth.  Do  you  demand  atria  1 
you  guilty  or  not  guilty? 

Prisoner — Yes,  sir  (meaning  he  dcinJ 
a  trial). 

After  soire  remarks  by  counsel,  4| 
Walworth,  wearing  the  same  air  o  n 
turbabilitv,  was  ushered  from  the  mt| 
reconveyed  to  the  Tombs,  followi  q 
curious  crowd. 


X. 

TIIE  TUIAL. 

The  trial  of  Frank  II.  Walwor  f® 
menced  on  Tuesday  morning,  J 0  a 
1873.  The  Court  of  Oyer  and  riT“*1 
was  filled  with  citizens,  from  wliqfl 
to  be  sifted  twelve  men  to  try  tlic  P”**! 
Among  the  friends  of  the  prisor',l 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Backus,  of  Seheneetif,* 
in-law  or  Chaneelor  Walworth ;  <tBl 


THE  WALWORTII  PAR  III'  ILL. 


1;,  brother  of  Mrs.  M.  T.  Walworth; 
fa.  James  Lorimer  Graham.  Young 
wrth  was  escorted  in  by  Sheriff  Brcn- 
rd  Deputy  Shields.  His  bearing  was 
<  d  haughty  as  ever. 

irJO’Conor  entered  with  solemn  and 
c  kc  tread.  He  was  accompanied  by 
ill. lender  lady,  draped  in  deep  mourn- 
iieside  her  walked  a  pretty  boy,  with 
!i  hazel  eyes,  and  a  fair,  intelligent 
The  lady  was  the  prisoner’s  mother, 
n  Barbour  and  Father  Clarence  Wal- 
rl  were  present  during  part  of  the 

hemtire  day  was  consumed  in  securing 
ir  The  following  gentleman  were 
•ctjl :  - 

.  Jiseph  II.  Horton,  25  John  street, 

•lp. 

.  ^cob  A.  Chamberlain,  519  West 
irtihird  street,  provisions. 

.  mes  Wm.  Tucker,  220  West  Twenty- 
t  hbreet,  machinist. 

.  ,1m  P.  Bell,  210  East  113th  street, 
:b(; 

,  irnard  Campbell,  203  East  Forty- 
flu  reet,  retail  butcher. 

•hn  Henry  Lewis,  073  Greenwich 
ct;  gilder. 

jijahll.  Purdy,  43  West  Thirteenth 
otsash  maker. 

.  im.  II.  Dougherty,  02  James  street, 

lid/. 


'.  in.  C.  Smith,  01  Peny  street, 

id!. 

O.lTni.  Ilart,  2C4  Monroe  street,  mar- 

1 .  diaries  E.  Millbank,  13  East  Twcuty- 
.thtreet,  brewer. 

S.  lcorge  W.  Wright,  10  University 
ec  p-ocer. 

rtt  ■  consultation  with  the  District 
or  y  and  counsel  for  the  defence, 
lg'  Davis  said  that  the  jury  would  be 
nv  l  to  go  home  for  the  night  to  make 
nn  iments  for  the  future.  The  Court 
ie(  on  their  integrity  that  they  would 
;  cow  themselves  to  be  influenced  by 
I'tljig  said  outside,  and  if  any  one 
ail  approach  them  with  a  view  to  in¬ 
ti'  their  action  in  this  ease,  they  must 


39 

report  the  person  to  the  Court  for  punish¬ 
ment.  He  hoped  that  the  press  would 
refrain  from  comments  during  the  trial. 

Court  opened  at  ten  o’clock  on  Wednes¬ 
day  morning.  There  was  an  unusual  rush 
for  seats  at  the  opening  of  the  Court,  but, 
with  the  special  instructions  which  had. 
been  given,  perfect  order  and  quiet  was. 
observed  during  the  proceedings.  The. 
prisoner  was  brought  in,  in  custody  of  the 
Sheriffs  deputies,  at  half-past  ten,  at  which 
time  his  counsel  and  the  prosecuting  officers  . 
were  already  in  their  places.  Walworth 
was  exceedingly  self-collected,  but  had  ga 
anxious  appearance.  Ills  mother,  deeply 
veiled  and  clad  in  mourning,  sat  beside  him 
during  the  day.  His  grandmother  and 
several  other  ladies,  also  in  mourning, 
were  present  and  seemed  deeply  interested  * 
in  the  proceedings. 

Sir.  Rollins,  Assistant  District  Attorney, 
presented  the  case  for  the  prosecutioa, 
addressing  the  jury  at  considerable  length, 
and  minutely  detailing  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  shooting.  He  alluded  to  parricide 
as  a  “crime  so  revolting  to  nature  that 
many  nations  had  considered  it  impossible. 
The  Persians  had  no  penalty  for  parricide, 
for  they  did  not  believe  that  a  Persian . 
would  commit  such  a  crime.  Among  the 
Chinese  the  whole  family  of  a  parricide 
was  exterminated,  and  his  very  dwelling, 
place  razed  to  the  ground.” 

Mrs.  Eliza  Simms  was  the  first  witness 
called,  and  testified  as  follows: — I  live 
on  Fourth  avenue,  between  Fifty-fourth 
and  Fifty-fifth  streets;  Tracy  Mansfield 
Walworth  roomed  with  me  two  years;  I 
saw  the  prisoner  on  the  second  of  June, 
about  three  r.  m.,  about  the  time  the  chil¬ 
dren  got  home;  he  asked  me  if  Mr.  Wal¬ 
worth  was  in ;  I  went  and  looked  and  he 
was  not  in,  and  I  so  told  him;  he  said, 
“Tell  Mr.  Walworth  to  come  to  the  Stur- 
tevant  House,  his  son  wants  to  see  him;”  1 
asked  him  if  he  was  his  son;  he  said,, 
“Yes;”  I  told  him  1*2  had  better  write  &M 
note  and  I  would  give  it  to  him ;  he  wrote 
a  note  and  I  put  it  on  Mr.  Walworth’s  table; 

I  never  saw  Mr.  Walworth  after  I  put  the 
note  on  his  table:  the  prisoner  had  on  e 


40 


TIIE  WALWORTII  rARRICIDE. 


^ght  overcoat  anil  was  cool  and  polite. 
There  was  no  cross-examination. 

Hooper  C.  Barrett ,  clerk  of  the  Sturtevant 
House,  testified I  had  known  the  prisoner 
at  Saratoga ;  I  saw  him  on  the  second  of 
June;  I  sent  him  up  to  No.  267;  I  talked 
With  him  about  Saratoga  affairs;  no  allusion 
was  made  to  his  father  or  his  purpose  in 
coming;  about  an  hour  later  he  came  down 
and  went  out ;  when  he  came  in  he  asked 
me  to  take  dinner  with  him;  I  told  him  I 
.would  take  supper  with  him;  I  saw  him 
again  about  seven  r.  m.  ;  I  was  at  the 
Counter;  we  took  supper  together  at  eight 
O’clock;  his  manner  was  his  usual  manner 
as  I  had  known  it  at  Saratoga;  I  next  saw 
fcim  at  half-past  six  next  morning;  he  came 
jjo  the  cashier's  desk  and  said,  “I  have 
«hot  father;”  I  said,  “You  don’t  mean  to 
say  that;"  lie  said,  “Yes,  I  shot  him  four 
times,  get  a  policeman ;”  I  sent  a  boy  out 
to  get  a  policeman;  he  didn't  find  one,  and 
I  telegraphed  for  one  to  the  district  tele¬ 
graph  office;  I  had  seen  Mansfield  YJal- 
wortli  that. morning;  he  spoke  to  the  night 
clerk  and  asked  for  Mr.  Walworth’s 
(prisoner's)  room;  the  night  clerk  asked 
ine  and  I  told  him  the  number  of  the  room; 
jhc  went  up  with  a  boy;  I  did  not  notice 
the  bell  of  207  being  rung;  I  did  not  no¬ 
tice  the  bell  of  263  rung  violently;  the 
prisoner  came  down  not  more  than  two  or 
three  minutes  later;  No.  208  was  Mr.  Ebert's 

yi 

jroom ;  the  prisoner's  manner  was  cool;  lie 
.dictated  a  telegram  to  C.  A.  Walworth, 
Albany,  stating,  “  I  have  shot  father,  look 
put  for  mother;”  he  spoke  to  me  as  a  friend  ; 
jEhat  was  the  first  intimation  id  the  killing 
Jihad. 

.Cross-examined — To  Mr.  O'Conor — I  was 
jralf-an-hour  with  him  at  supper;  I  did  not 
sec  him  take  dinner;  he  asked  me  to  take 
dinner  with  him  when  he  first  came  in;  I 
Remember  the  ringing  of  the  bell  for  room 
No.  208  and  his  coming  down  were  very 
%  pear  together,  but  I  can't  say  how  near;  he 
f  lianded  me  §7.10;  he  took  it  out  of  his 
jpockct  and  handed  it  to  me;  I  don't  remem- 
per'  in  what  bills  they  were;  he  said, 
fl  There’s  money  I  think  that  will  pay  my 
fcillt  yoiqtakc  charge  of  it;”  1  don’t  know 


1 


It 

or 


4 

14 


wit  V  ' 

I  di 


lie 

>t 


that  he  had  any  other  money ;  I  have  w 
him  about  two  years;  I  made  his  ai  aii 
tance  when  visiting  Saratoga ;  I  jm .  ), 
reached  the  hotel  about  half  past  m 
because  there  is  a  train  coming  in  xr 
half  an  hour  before  that  time,  and  i  iki 
about  half  an  hour  to  reach  the  ]>'l? 
sent  the  telegram  through  the  telegriii 
the  hotel ;  I  don’t  know  what  they  d 
tho  messages;  it  was  addressed  to 
Walworth,  Chapel  Street,  Albany. 

William  II.  Amos  (colored)  test!  Si¬ 
am  bellman  at  the  Sturtevant  House 
on  duty  from  a  quarter  of  five  in  the 
ing  to  midnight;  about  six  o'clock 
third  of  June  a  gentleman  came 
hotel ;  he  spoke  to  the  clerk,  who 
me  and  gave  me  a  card  ;  I  carried  it 
room  No.  207  and  rapped  twice  i 
door;  I  said,  “I  have  a  card  v; 
Walworth’s  name  on  it ;”  just  as 
the  door  opened  and  I  saw  Mr.  Wall 
face  and  hand;  he  said,  “I  am  notil 
“I'm  not  dressed;”  I  went  down"  at 
them  thelgentlemen  would  be  dow:| 
few  minutes;  I  waited  some  time;  tl| 
of  No.  207  rang;  then  I  went  up 
knocked;  Sir.  Walworth  said,  “Cot 
I  went  in;  he  was  sitting  by  the  v 
and  said,  “Show  the  gentleman 
went  down  and  showed  Sir.  Walwoi] 
the  prisoner  was  still  sitting  by  thaw 
I  didn't  see  the  prisoner  rise;  I  sal 
Walworth  step  to  the  corner  of  tl 
stead  and  I  turned  and  went  out;  Is] 
prisoner  again  in  not  less  than  five 
than  ten  minutes  after;  he  was 
down  stairs,  not  very  fast  but  live 
went  up  to  Sir.  Barrett;  I  did  n 
what  was  said  by  him;  Sir.  Earrctt| 
me  to  go  for  an  officer;  I  went  up  an 
the  street  a  little  way,  but  couldr 
any,  so  I  came  back;  as  I  turned  to 
some  one  said,  “Quick  as  lightni 
don't  know  who  said  it;  Sir.  Carre W 
the  prisoner  were  tire  only  ones  psent 
when  I  got  back  a  messenger  hi  n** 
there. 

To  Sir.  O'Conor — »  was  engag  till 
Saturday  evening  previous,  and  vjt  « 
duty  Monday,  June  second;  I  notid  W 


^  miim 


♦ 


9 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


43 


inner  on  Monday;  he  looked  as  if  he 
ic  been  travelling,  and  his  boots  were 
uv;  lie  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Barrett; 
cn't  remember  particularly  the  time 
lii  I  carried  up  the  card  the  next  morn- 
»  I  can’t  sav  whether  the  prisoner  was 
reed  or  not;  I  only  saw  his  face  and 
us;  Mr.  Walworth  said  nothing  to  me, 
mt.yhen  he  went  in  he  turned  round  and 
w  me  a  look,  as  if  he  wanted  me  to  leave 
eoom;  it  was  a  kind  of  frown;  he  did 
otook  as  cross  as  you  (Mr.  O’Conor)  do 
aov (laughter) ;  he  looked  as  if  lie  wanted 
no')  leave  the  room:  I  suppose  he  shut 
ie:.oor. 

o  iah  llorehead  testified — On  the  morn- 
ng  f  June  second  I  occupied  room  2GG  at 
ic  turtevant  House. 

C  Did  you  at  any  time  on  that  morning 
leathe  noise  of  a  pistol  shot?  A.  I  did. 

C  What  time  was  it?  A.  Very  near 
lialbast  six. 

(  What  happened — what  did  you  hear 
nice?  A.  I  saw  nothing ;  I  heard  a  knock 
it  door;  then  I  heard,  “Here  is,’’  or 
‘lore  is  a  card  for  you,  sir;”  then  some 
htt  time  after  I  heard  a  door  either  open 
or ; nt,  and  a  very  short  time  subsequently 
third  a  shot;  then  another  after  about 
thc'engtli  of  time  a  man  would  take  to 
coc,  aim,  and  fire  a  pistol;  after  the 
ecul  shot  I  heard  a  cry  of  murder  in  a 
r  ied  voice;  almost  immediately  I  heard 
i  tl red  shot  and  a  second  cry  of  murder; 
lie  in  quick  succession  a  fourth  shot; 
the;I  heard  some  person  running,  as  I  took 
it,  rough  the  entry ;  I  did  not  leave  my 
becpntil  after  I  heard  the  fourth  shot; 
JicI  jumped  out  and  dressed,  and  got  out 
to  lie  hall;  I  saw  the  housekeeper  and  Mr. 
Docttle,  the  steward,  I  think,  in  the  hall; 
l  wh  them  made  search  to  ascertain  the 
car  of  the  firing;  we  looked  in  the  bath- 
mo  and  one  or  two  rooms,  then  I  opened 
the  oom  next  to  mine  and  looked  in ;  I  saw 
the  ody  of  a  person  lying  partially  upon 
thedoor ;  this  was  from  ten  to  fifteen 
mil  tes  from  the  time  I  had  left  my  room  : 

I  vs  not  able  to  distinguish  where  the 
bIk  proceeded  from ;  I  thought  it  was  up 
sta  i ;  I  looked  into  the  room,  then  I 

L 


backed  out,  and  said.  “My  God!  here  he 
is!”  I  said,  “For  God’s  sake  send  for  Dr. 
Child’s;”  the  body  was  lying  upon  the  left 
side,  the  head  a  little  elevated  against  the 
washstand. 

Q.  After  hearing  the  door  open  ana  shut 
did  you  hear  anything?  A.  Not  a  word ; 
heard  no  noise  or  altercation  and  no  move¬ 
ment;  had  heard  people  speaking  in  the 
adjacent  room  on  previous  occasions,  but 
on  that  morning  heard  nothing  at  all. 

Cha'rles  M.  Dooli’.tle  testified — I  rose  at 
six  a.  m.,  and  called  some  girls  at  twenty 
minutes  past  six  a.  m.  ;  about  five  minutes 
after  that  I  heard  a  shot;  I  was  then  on  the 
landing  of  the  floor  on  which  No.  207  is; 
was  on  the  main  staircase;  I  think  I  heard 
more  than  one  shot,  but  I  didn’t  count 
them ;  all  were  fired  within  a  minute,  as 
quick  as  a  man  could  cock  a  firearm  and 
point  it ;  when  the  shots  were  fired  I  heard 
a  human  voice ;  whether  it  was  a  cry  of 
murder  or  a  groan  of  pain  I  could  not  say; 
when  I  was  opening  the  doors  I  heard  the 
annunciator  ringing;  there  was  a  very  brief 
interval ;  I  think  Mr.  Barrett  was  the  first 
man  who  told  me  of  the  killing — in  the 
presence  ®f  the  prisoner;  I  then  went  di¬ 
rectly  to  No.  237;  I  did  not  go  in:  T  saw 
the  body;  I  went  for  a  doc 'or. 

Dr.  llussell  Cuilds  testified — I  am  a  physi¬ 
cian;  1  live  at  the  Sturtcvant  House;  on 
the  third  of  June  I  was  summoned  to  room 
2G7,  it  must  have  been  near  seven;  nearer 
than  half-past  six ;  I  found  a  body  lying  on 
the  left  side  with  its  head  ag  linst  the  wash- 
stand  ;  I  felt  the  pulse ;  it  was  barely  per¬ 
ceptible  ;  the  respiration  was  very  feeble ; 
the  wash-basin  had  had  water  in  it;  blood 
had  spurted  into  the  water  already  there; 
under  the  bed  was  quite  a  pool  of  blood; 
in  a  very  brief  space  of  time  pulse  and 
respiration  ceased  ;  as  he  was  evidently  at 
the  point  of  death  I  did  not  move  him; 
from  the  wound  in  the  temple  there  was  a 
slight  oozing;  afterwards  I  examined  the 
body,  but  not  very  thoroughly,  as  I  knew 
there  was  to  be  a  Coronor’s  jury;  several 
assisted  me  in  placing  the  body  on  the  bed  ; 
a  portion  of  the  clothing  was  removed,  and 
a  slight  examination  of  his  pockets  made; 


44 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


we  found  a  card ;  I  had  been  long  acquainted 
with  Chancellor  Walworth,  and  my  interest 
in  the  family  induced  me  to  go  and  see  the 
grandson;  he  gave  me  a  telegraphic  dis¬ 
patch  to  his  grandmother  in  Chicago;  I 
showed  it  to  the  sergeant;  I  believe  he 
handed  it  back  to  me;  I  took  it  to  Mr.  Bar¬ 
rett  at  the  hotel. 

Stephen  Keating,  sergeant  of  the  Twenty- 
ninth  Precinct,  testified — I  saw  the  prisoner 
at  a  qnartcr  to  seven  a.  m.  ;  he  said  he  had 
shot  his  father,  and  wished  to  give  himself 
up;  ho  drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket  and 
said,  “ This  is  the  pistol  I  shot  him  with;” 
it  had  one  undischarged  cartridge;  I  asked 
him  if  his  father  was  dead;  he  said  he  must 
be,  the  last  time  be  shot  him  he  was  very 
near  him ;  I  asked  him  why  lie  did  it;  he 
said  he  had  r.'  t  lived  with  his  mother  for  a 
long  time,  and  had  threatened  to  kill  his 
mother  and  her  children;  1  asked  him 
when  lie  last  saw  his  father;  he  said  not 
since  last  fall;  1  asked  him  whether  he 
had  any  disturbance  with  his  father  that 
morning;  he  said  no;  lie  showed  me  Ins 
left  hand;  the  back  of  it  was  scratched  or 
raised,  and  he  said  it  was  burnt  witli  t lie 
powder;  we  took  away  from  him  a  pocket 
knife;  he  said,  “Do  you  think  I  would 
.  commit  suicide?  You  are  mistaken.” 

Sergeant  Washington  Mullen  testified — I 
went  to  the  Sturtevant  bouse  with  Dr.  Mul- 
ford  and  searched  the  pockets  of  the  de¬ 
ceased  ;  I  found  a  note  and  some  keys ;  I 
was  present  at  the  Coronor's  examination; 
he  stated  as  follows: 

Mr.  O'Conor  here  interrupted,  claiming 
that  to  admit  in  evidence  the  examination 
before  the  Coroner,  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
the  statement  was  made  while  the  prisoner 
was  in  custody,  and  without  the  usual  and 
proper  warning,  and  merely  preserved 
orally,  was  a  most  dangerous  innovation. 

The  Court  held  that  at  present  it  appear¬ 
ed  only  as  a  voluntary  statement. 

Mr.  Beach  examined  the  witness,  who 
stated : 

This  was  in  the  ■  station  house.  I  intro¬ 
duced  the  Coroner  as  the  Coroner.  He  had 
no  writing  materials  that  I  know  of.  When 
he  said  lie  had  been  studying  law  the  Coro¬ 


ner  said,  “  Well  then  I  suppose  you 
what  is  right.”  That  is  all  I  remem 
a  preliminary  nature. 

Mr.  O’Conor  said  that  this  was  es 


the  law  refusi 


the  exception  which 
hear. 

The  Court  held  that  the  mere  intra 
tion  of  the  Coroner  as  the  Coroner 
conversation  no  official  character,  ana 
mitted  the  evidence.  (Exception.) 

Witness  resumed : 

The  Coroner  asked  him  why  lie  cai 
New  York;  he  answered,  “To  do  til 
the  Coroner  said,  “To  kill  your  fat 
he  answered,  “Well  to  settle  this  fi 
difficulty.” 

Coroner  Nelson ■ IF.  Tovng  was  eallecnd' 
testified  to  the  holding  of  the  inques  id 
the  statement  there  made  by  the  priser. 
(page  37.) 

The  result  of  the  postmortem  exana- 
tion  was  then  given  in  evidence,  (pagd), 
after  which  the  prosecution  rested. 

Mr.  Beach  at  3:30  p.  m.  opened  thusa 
for  the  prisoner,  and  occupied  an  hound 
a  half  in  his  address  to  the  Jury.  Ding 
the  entire  day  the  prisoner  had  rcmi.ed 
calm  and  collected,  but  as  Mr.  Beach  rc- 
ceeded  in  a  pathetic  manner  to  dcseriirllfc 
wrongs  Mansfield  T.  Walworth,  who  hi 
pronounced  a  demoniac  fiend,  had  inffied 
upon  his  wife  and  childern,  the  prison 
feelings  gave  way,  and  dropping  his  tub 
in  his  hands  he  seemed  deeply  affected.  Ail 
the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Beach's  addreschfli 
court  adjourned,  the  jury  being  allow  to 
separate. 

The  Court  opened  on  Thursday  antris 
soon  filled  to  a  jam  with  spectators.  rer. 
was  (j  he  a  number  of  ladies  print 
Many  of  them  were  old  stagers  in  the  ur- 
der  trial  line  of  spectators,  two  of  cm 
having  attended,  it  is  said,  every  m  deft 
case  held  in  this  city  during  the  paslB 
years.  Immediately  behind  the  cotsd 
there  were  several  lady  friends  of  the  *1- 
worth  family,  some  of  whom  had  beerub- 
poenacd  to  attend,  and  others  of  them  ar- 
ing  come  merely  to  give  testimony  by  a 
presence  to  their  friendship  for  the  prim 
and  Ills  mother. 


eir 

iia 


THE  WALWORTH  TARRICIDE. 


.-iguatuo  Ebert  was  the  first  witness  ex¬ 
it  led  for  the  defence,  and  testified  that 
a he  morning  of  June  3  lie  had  occupied 
xi  2G8  in  the  Sturtevant  House,  which 
mediately  adjoined  that  in  which  young 
y: worth  was;  lie  heard  some loitd  talking, 
mvas  not  fully  awake  until  after  the-  first 
ac;  he  could  not  distinguish  any  of  the 
els  made  use  of,  and  heard  no  cry  of 
ruder;  on  hearing  the  shot  he  had  jumped 
itif  bed  and  pulled  the  bell  violently. 

1  the  District  Attorney — I  was  very 
ada  excited  at  the  time ;  the  only  words 
c.ld  distinguish  were  “hope,”  “mother,” 
•  1  r,  ”  but  could  not  make  out  any  con¬ 
ceal  sentence. 

tarence  T.  Jenkins  testified  that  he  was 
nbhew  of  the  deceased;  lived  in  Albany; 
to  charge  of  the  effects  of  M.  T.  Wal- 
coni. 

lv.  Jonathan  T.  Backus,  brother-in-law 
(ceased;  Mrs.  Ann  Eliza  Backus,  sister 
if  cceased ;  John  M.  Davidson ,  brother-in 
wif  deceased  ;  Chief  Justice  John  M.  Bai'- 
v.  Joseph  TIT  Hill,  a  lawyer  of  Saratoga 
a  lose  office  the  prisoner  was  studying 
..ti  John  B.  Putnam,  a  lawyer  of  Saratoga; 
IF*  C.  Barrett ;  a  Justice  of  1  lie  Peace  at 
iar/oga;  Anson  M.  Boyce,  of  Saratoga; 
lit  Ton  Eelleau,  principal  of  the  boys’ 
loaling  school  which  the  prisoner  had  at¬ 
rial  up  to  May  last,  all  testified  to  the 
rimer’s  good  character.  Most  of  these 
it isses  testified  that  he  had  no  vices, 
vh::  some  seemed  to  regard  him  as  immac- 
da\  None  of  the  witnesses  were  cross- 
rained.  The  District  Attorney  simply 
sk  ’  the  pertinent  question  of  each,  “  Do 
lu  now  that  lie  was  in  the  habit  of  carry- 
ig  pistol  during  the  past  three  years?’’ 
o  is  every  one  replied  in  the  negative. 
Ctrcnce  A.  1  Talicorth,  a  Catholic  clergy- 
;ai  testified — I  am  the  eldest  son  of  Chan- 
ell  Walworth  ;  reside  at  Albany ;  that  is 
lie  iriginal  M  ill  of  my  father  (document 
ho  i  him) ;  the  executors  are  Dr.  Backus 
•nd  iyself;  Mansfield  T.  Walworth  and  I 
vepthe  only  tMO  sons  of  the  Chancellor; 
iis  mghters  were  Mrs.  Jenkins,  Mrs.  Da- 
dds i  and  Mrs.  Backus;  I  have  known 
*Ta :  Walworth  from  his  infancy;  his 


character  is  as  near  perfect  as  may  be;  dur¬ 
ing  this  spring  I  entertained  the  project  of 
travelling  abroad,  with  the  view  of  remain¬ 
ing  some  time;  spoke  to  Frank’s  mother 
about  his  going  with  me,  and  alluded  to  it 
the  week  previous  to  June  2;  received, a 
letter  from  Frank  on  this  subject,  enclosing 
another  letter ;  received  them  in  the  after¬ 
noon  of  June  2;  Frank's  letter  is  dated 
“Sunday,  1873 the  letter  enclosed  is  in 
the  handM-riting of  Mansfield,  the  deceased; 
before  1  received  the  letters  I  got  a  telegram 
from  Frank’s  mother  saying  that  Frank  had 
gone  from  Saratoga,  she  feared,  to  meet 
his  father;  on  Tuesday,  June  3,  I  received 
a  telegram  from  New  York  saying  that 
Frank  had  shot  his  father  three  times. 

To  Mr.  Phelps — I  did  not  know  that 
Frank  nas  in  the  habit  of  carrying  a  pistol. 

Thomas  E.  Dennis,  telegraph  operator, 
identified  the  follon'ing  telegram  sent  by 
Mr.  Barrett  at  the  instance  of  the  prisoner. 

New  York,  June  3,  1873. 

C.  A.  Walworth,  Chapel  street,  Albany: — 

Have  shot  father  three  times.  Look  after 
mother.  Frank  Walm-orth. 

Blooper  C.  Barrett  recalled,  stated  that 
that  was  the  telegram  lie  wrote  at  the  direc¬ 
tion  and  in  the  presence  of  the  accused. 

Mrs.  Ellen  Hardin  Walworth  M'as  the  next 
witness,  and  being  sn-orn  said : — I  am  the 
mother  of  Frank  II.  Walworth;  M'as  mar¬ 
ried  to  M.  T.  Waln-orth  in  St.  Peter's 
church,  Saratoga  Springs,  in  1852,  on  July 
29,  and  resided  at  the  Chancellor’s  house, 
M'hich  my  mother  now  on-ns;  lived  there 
until  the  summer  of  1861 ;  the  Chancellor’s 
family  and  my  two  brothers  resided  in  the 
house  at  the  same  time. 

The  M’itness  then  gave  the  names  of  her 
children,  with  the  dates  of  their  birth,  as 
folloM's : 

Frank  II.,  born,  August  17,  1853. 

John  Jay,  born  October  19,  1855. 

Bessie,  born  November  2,  1856. 

Nellie,  born  November  3,  1858. 

Clarence,  born  October  20,  1859. 

Mansfield  Tracy,  born  June  19,  1861. 

Rubina,  born  February  19,  1867. 

Sarah,  born  June  7,  1871. 


4C> 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


Of  these  children  John  Jay,  Bessie  and 
Samh  died,  the  latter  in  1872. 

In  the  summer  of  18G1  I  went  to  Ken¬ 
tucky,  near  Louisville,  my  brother  Lemuel 
going  with  me,  and  all  of  my  children; 
lived  there  until  18G7 ;  my  husband  did  not 
go  there  with  me ;  lived  in  Kentucky  three 
years  without  seeing  him;  he  did  not  re¬ 
main  in  Saratoga  when  I  went  to  Kentucky; 
he  promised  to  meet  me  there ;  where  he 
went  I  do  not  know  ;  during  the  first  winter 
lie  was  in  Washington,  and  afterwards  in 
Saratoga;  I  had  a  country  place  three  miles 
from  Louisville,  by  means  of  which  I  sup¬ 
ported  my  family ;  the  Chancellor  visited 
me  there,  and  three  years  after  I  first  went 
there  my  husband  came  to  see  me,  and  re¬ 
mained  for  about  six  weeks;  I  next  saw 
him  in  Saratoga  the  following  summer,  and 
stayed  there  about  a  week ;  in  the  Decem¬ 
ber  following  I  saw  him  in  New  York,  at  a 
boarding  house  in  Madison  avenue;  I  came 
to  New  York  to  find  employment,  but  not 
succeeding,  went  to  Washington' and  secur¬ 
ed  an  appointment  under  the  government ; 
I  then  gathered  my  children  around  me  and 
put  Frank  at  college  in  Georgetown ;  was 
eighteen  months  a  government  clerk,  during 
which  time  my  husband  was  with  his 
brother,  Clarence,  at  Albany;  when  I  was 
discharged,  owing  to  a  change  of  politics, 
I  went  to  Saratoga,  to  the  family  mansion, 
and  opened  a  boarding  house,  and  remained 
there  until  October,  18G9,  during  a  portion 
of  which  time  my  husband  was  with  me, 
Frank  being  then  in  Louisville ;  at  the  ur¬ 
gent  request  of  Mansfield  T.  Walworth  I 
came  to  New  York,  to  a  house  in  Twenty- 
third  street,  belonging  to  a  Mrs.  Montross, 
all  of  my  children  being  with  me ;  the  very 
day  of  my  arrival  I  was  taken  ill,  and  con¬ 
tinued  so  until  taken  to  my  brother's  house 
in  Buffalo;  my  husband  did  not  go  with 
me  to  Buffalo ;  soon  after  went  to  Kentucky, 
and  the  following  summer  M.  T.  Walworth 
followed  and  remained  three  weeks,  after 
which  he  went  to  Saratoga;  I  spent  the 
summer  of  18GG  in  Saratoga;  deceased  was 
there  for  three  months,  and  the  whole  fam¬ 
ily  was  together;  then  went  back  to  Ken¬ 
tucky  ;  deceased  came  there  in  18G7  and 


remained  there  until  his  father’s  d(  h 
arrived  at  the  Chancellor’s  just  afil 
death,  with  my  infant  child,  Rubin  ;] 
soon  returned  to  Kentucky  and  bronJ 
my  children  except  Frank  back  to  ifl 
ga :  Frank  stayed  with  iiis  uncle  L  n 
deceased  was  living  with  his  brothc  !| 
once,  and  we  discussed  the  question 
future  residence  but  came  to  no  1 
standing  about  it ;  in  November,  1 )■ 
went  to  my  mother's  house  in  Fifty-  a 
street,  New  York,  Mr.  Walworth  a 
with  me,  and  we  remained  there  un  | 
final  separation  on  the  26th  ox  Jsai 
1871  I  then  went  with  all  my  chili  9 
Judge  Barbour,  and  since  then  he  i 
seen  deceased ;  legal  proceedings  foi  li 
ited  divorce  were  commenced  in  thc.M 
or  Court  on  January  57,  1371,  and  I 
8th  of  April,  1871,  a  decree  of  sepfi 
was  pronounced ;  on  the  31st  of  July  to 
ing  the  decree  was  modified  to  all  1 
Walworth  to  see  his  children  once  a  :  nt 
after  I  left  Judge  Barbour  I  went  >i 
brother,  General  Ilardin,  at  the  Bin 
[louse ;  then  went  to  my  brother-  la 
Clarence,  at  Albany;  remained  thereto 
weeks,  and  went  to  Dr.  Backus,  tak;r 
children  with  me;  from  there  I  wcnlij 
old  homestead  at  Saratoga ;  have  re  k 
there  ever  since  with  my  childrei  X 
Walworth  addressed  me  very  frcquelyl 
letter  after  our  separation;  after  II  bi 
my  youngest  child  was  born ;  being  <  icj 
from  its  birth,  died  January,  18';  X 
Walworth  never  came  near  the  ho  :H 
never  saw  his  youngest  child;  I  >1  * 
always  receive  his  letters;  for  the  £tt| 
or  three  months  I  did,  but  after  tha  t  w 
only  occasionally  that  I  rcccivedhti 
some  of  his  letters  never  reached  mejtlie; 
was  no  male  person  in  my  house  wh:oal 
protect  me  except  my  son;  Clarcn  Wj 
worth  spoke  to  me  on  the  Thursday*®! 
the  occurrence  about  taking  Fran'"* 
him  to  Europe;  I  told  Frank  of  tlj 
evening;  he  seemed  gratified,  but  fid] 
should  think  about  it ;  on  Friday  1  M! 
fishing  with  his  younger  brother  tn)anl 
gaLake;  returned  about  six  o’clo.  aril 
evening  and  ritired  early ;  on  Sat  •3*1 ) 


47 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


s  rranging  liis  clotnes,  books  and  otuei 
i  s  and  wont  swinging  in  the  grove ;  on 
my  lie  slept  until  late;  some  young 
els  of  his  called  in  the  afternoon,  and 
ewent  to  walk  in  the  woods;  he  wrote 
Icier  on  that  day  and  asked  me  for  some 
tpaper,  which  I  gave  him;  on  Monday 
ning  I  came  down  early,  and  seeing 
rakin  the  hall,  said,  “You  arc  up 
t-];”  he  made  some  casual  reply  and  went 
tie.  front  door;  I  thought  he  had  gone 
t;  Springs  and  at  breakfast  table  asked 
;Hie  did  not  return;  some  one  said  that 
.  .a  gone  away  and  left  a  message  that  if 
;  is  not  back  to  supper  he  would  not  be 
>c  that  day;  I  then  went  to  his  room,  and 
i  ioking  around  found  an  empty  envel- 
iea  the  hand  writingof  M.  T.  Walworth ; 
irmediately  telegraphed  to  Father  Wal- 
on  and  to  Judge  Barbour;  but  could  as- 
rin  nothing  about  him,  and  thenbeliev- 
1  j  had  gone  to  Troy. 

r  e  envelope  she  found  was  produced. 

\  s  postmarked,  “  May  30.”  . 

Access  was  here  taken,  after  which  Mrs. 
favorth  again  took  the  witness  stand  and 
Unified  a  document  which  proved  to  be  a 
ijlation  modifying  the  decree  of  divorce, 
ig ;d  by  her,  and  said  she  had  a  counter- 
aiof  it,  signed  by  Mr.  Walworth;  she 
ii;  or  ted  herself  and  children  entirely  by 
enwn  exertions,  with  the  exception  of 
bet  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  receiv- 
d  ora  the  Walworth  estate ;  while  she  lived 
.-it  Mansfield  T.  Walworth  he  always  car- 
Lei  a  pistol.  A  pistol  being  produced, 
he  aid  it  originally  belonged  to  a  Mr. 
wins,  who  is  now  dead,  and  which  was 
i\i  by  Mrs.  Adams  to  Frank  to  take  care 
if  , me  time  in  1870,  since  which  time  he 
ia:iad  charge  of  it;  the  way  I  found  my 
iu  and’s  letters  had  been  kept  from  me 
vathat  Frank  gave  me  a  large  package  of 
uj  father’s  letters  a  few  months  after  the 
lefjration  under  my  promise  not  to  read 
;lii i ;  since  that  Tuesday,  (the  day  of  the 
nvler,)  I  have  found  numbers  of  letters  in 
Fijik’s  secretary ;  I  know  he  was  advised 
;o  eep  them  from  me ;  a  few  reached  me. 
,'S'icral  letters  were  here  shown  her  one  by 
an )  This  letter  I  have  seen  before ;  I  know 


Frank  saw  it;  it  must  have  been  received  iu 
August,  1873.  (This  letter  was  dated  Au¬ 
gust  13,  supposed  tobeiu  1S72.) 

The  following  letter,  written  by  the 
prisoner  the  Sunday  prior  to  his  fatal  visit 
to  New  York,  and  received  by  his  uncle  in 
Albany  on  Monday,  June  2,  1873,  was  then 
read : 

Saratoga,  17.  Y.,  Sunday,  ’73. 

Dear  Uncle— Mother  told  me  of  the 
invitation  you  extended  to  me  to  accompany 
you  to  Europe.  Having  only  recently  any 
desire  to  go  to  Europe,  the  invitation  was 
particularly  acceptable,  and  as  I  would 
have  to  leave  her  soon  any  way  to  attend 
the  Albany  Law  School,  I  told  her  (on  her 
intimating  that  you  wished  an  answer  “in 
the  morning”)  that  she  might  say  I  would 
like  to  go.  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  it. 
would  be  neither  safe  nor  wise  to  leave  her 
unprotected  against  father’s  acts.  In  fact, 

I  do  not  think  her  situation  is  by  any 
means  a  safe  one  as  it  is.  I  enclose  a  letter 
from  father  to  her,  which  I  received  yester¬ 
day.  I  am  going  down  to  New  A ork  in  the 
morning  to  try  to  see  him,  and  I  may  add, 
without  informing  mother,  for  she  would 
feel  very  uneasy.  My  trip  will  determine 
any  question  in  regard  to  ray  going  to 
Europe  or  anywhere  else.  I  will  bo  heartily 
sorry  if  I  shall  have  caused  you  any  trouble 
or  expense.  Affec.  your  nephew. 

F.  II.  W ALWOPvTir. 

Mr.  O’Conor  then  read  Mansfield  Tracy 
Walworth's  last  letter  to  his  wife,  and 
which  she  never  received,  it  having  been 
intercepted  by  Frank  and  afterwards  sent 
by  him  to  his  uncle,  enclosed  in  the  letter 
above  given.  This  letter  (supposed  to  be 
of  May  30,  1873,  instead  of  May  8)  is  as 
follows : 

May  3,  Seven  o’clock  in  the  Morning. 

Prepare  yourself  for  the  inevitable.  I  am 
getting  over  my  wasting  fever  and  shall  he 
out  of  my  room  in  a  few  days.  I  am  going 
to  call  upon  my  children;  my  heart  is  starv¬ 
ing  for  their  caresses.  Make  the  interview 
as  easy  and  pleasant  as  possible.  I  cannot 
stay  from  them  much  longer.  I  will  see 
them — peaceably  if  I  can  or  with  a  tragedy 
if  I  must.  Their  little  faces  haunt  me,  as 


48 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


they  arc  mine.  Popish  cruelty  must  bent! 
to  the  demand  of  a  fatlfer's  breast,  or  the 
Walworth  name  goes  out  in  blood.  Keep 
Frank  Walworth  out  of  my  way.  You 
have  taught  him  to  hate  me,  and  his  pres¬ 
ence  or  obstruction  in  any  way  will  only 
excite  fatal  exasperation.  I  want  to  see 
my  little  girl  and  come  away  peaceably. 
Beware  that  you  do  not  in  any  way  arouse 
the  frenzy  which  you  have  known  to  exist 
since  you  left  me.  There  is  a  reasonable 
way  to  deal  with  me.  I  shall  have  my 
rights  under  that  decree,  with  no  further 
legal  delay  or  expense.  I  have  conceded 
promptly  every  right  under  that  decree, 
and  now  I  am  going  to  see  my  children, 
and  you  shall  not  bring  them  up.  to  hate 
their  loving  father.  Eliza  Backus  has 
written  to  me  that  you  will  do  it  if  you 
can,  from  your  associations  with  them,  and 
then  I  shall  shoot  you  and  myself  on  those 
door-steps,  for  I  have  nothing  further  to 
live  for.  I  am  a  broken-hearted  desperado. 

I  admit  it.  Save  this  letter  for  lawyers  and 
courts  if  you  please.  God  is  my  lawyer; 
not  the  remorseless,  brutal  god  that  you 
and  Eliza  Backus  and  C.  A.  Walworth 
worship,  but  that  God  who  has  planted 
love  in  my  heart  for  my  little  girls,  and 
that  says* to  the  tiger  bereft  of  its  young. 
“Kill!”  You  are  an  infamous  wretch  to 
keep  me  for  more  than  two  years  from  the 
little  hands  and  hearts  that  love  me.  Your 
only  excuse  was  my  poverty  and  misfortune. 
When  Frank  refused  to  speak  to  me  in  the 
streets  of  Saratoga  I  said  to  myself,  “She 
is  teaching  them  all  to  hate  a  broken¬ 
hearted  father.”  Then  all  is  lost,  and  the 
tragedy  must  come.  When  I  know  from 
the  conduct  of  my  little  girls  that  you  have 
taught  them  to  bate  me,  that  moment  two 
pistol  shots  will  ring  about  your  house — 
one  slaying  you,  the  other  myself.  I  know 
that  you  have  no  personal  fear,  no  more 
than  I  have,  but  we  both  must  die  when 
that  discovery  comes  that  you  have  es¬ 
tranged  my  young  children  from  me.  It  is 
possible  you  have  not  done  so,  and  you 
shall  have  your  life.  If  my  little  girls  do 
dot  love  me  then  life  is  valueless,  and  I 
shall  die  with  a  feeling  of  luxury  and  rest 


to  come;  but  you  will  have  to  attem 
die  spirit  land.  The  God  of  just 
mands  it.  Therefore  I  say  to  you,  d  ■ 
under  that  decree,  then  all  may  be 8 
but  now  my  heart  is  agonized  form  i| 
children.  If  you  had  common  sen 
would  knowr  how  to  appreciate  the  i  q 
Mansfield  Tracy  Wai.wo  t 

After  some  discussion  by  counsc  4 
the  admissibility  of  the  letters  identi  J 
this  witness,  the  Court  adjourned. 

Upon  the  opening  of  the  Court  r<n 
Friday  morning  it  was  immediately ci  •( 
with  spectators.  Such  e-igerness  to  a 
a  sight  of  the  prisoner  and  such  an.\y 
witness  the  proceedings  were  never  :| 
evinced  within  the  recollection  of  the! 
court  habitue.  At  no  criminal  trial  ti 
has  the  attendance  of  ladies  been  sc* 
and  they  sat  all  day  with  heads  cran  fc 
ward  with  curiosity  that  never  slkn 
Mrs.  Walworth,  the  murderer’s  n  he 
came  in  promptly  at  ten,  leaning  •  fl 
arm  of  her  husband’s  brother,  FathcM 
worth,  and  1  lie  prisoner  came  in  mi 
immediately  after,  and  conversed  cheln 
and  unrestrainedly  with  her  unt  th 
“Hats  off”  of  the  Court  Crier  callccM 
tion  to  the  important  business  ,of  thdai 
Many  of  the  friends  and  relatives  tl 
prisoner’s  family  were  also  present. 

After  argument  by  counsel,  Judge  )ai 
decided  to  admit  the  letter  of  Auglf  hi 
in  part.  He  should  strike  out  all  hie 
was  merely  historical,  however  coar  u 
admit  the  threatening  portion  alon 
said  that  the  late  decision  of  the  C<rtl 
Appeals  (Stokes’  case)  seemed  to  p  nit 
wider  latitude,  to  engender  a  tend>cj< 
liberality  in  the  construction  of  tl  1* 
applying  to  this  character  of  evident' an 
as  there  was  a  doubt,  he  should  git  tt 
benefit  of  the  doubt  to  the  prisoner. 

Mr.  Beach  took  exception  to  the  Jlti| 
so  far  as  it  excluded  any  portion  l!#| 
letter. 

The  portion  of  the  letter  ruled  out? 
Court  was  also  read  at  last,  the  btrict, 
Attorney  consenting  to  have  it  go  d°H‘ 
the  jury  with  the  rest. 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


49 


icfollowing  id  the  letter  in  full: 

jyticn  House  op  Cakleton  &  Co.,  ) 
Under  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  > 

Ne  w  York,  August  14.  ) 

;ti  to  these  terrible  words.  They  will 
•  in  how  keenly  and  fiercely  l  feel  the 
iltion  of  Reuben  II.  Walwoith’s  will, 
wit  a  Scot,  the  descendant  of  King 
.01,  will  do  when  all  has  been  taken 
in.  Reuben  II.  Walworth  always 
1  ae  from  my  cradle.  He  always 
1  ny  one  who  was  high  spirited  and 
klspeak  out  their  thoughts.  Ho  al- 
s  bed  cringing  hypocrites,  like  Eliza 
v  and  Clarence  Walworth.  Al- 
ghc  saw  my  ambitious  spirit  he  hated 
iC'USe  it  would  not  toady  to  his 
it  Yankees.  Hence  from  my  cradle 
icncuted  me  and  headed  me  off  in 
y  ursuit  or  speculation.  I  could  not 
e  im  in  anything  because  I  would  not 
.eo  him  about  his  favorites.  Every- 
g  Tat  I  ever  rung  from  him,  even  my 
intlie  Spike  case,  was  rung  from  his 
.  The  only  reason  that  he  did  not 
t  vj  name  from  his  will  altogether  was 
.  1;  respected  my  talents  and  hoped  I 
ilchrite  his  life.  He  knew  nobody  else 
:ld  But  he  has  stung  me  into  madness 
b  ken  up  my  family  by  placing  me  in 
nuiliating  position  of  being  under  a 
;tei  and  that  trustee  my  brother,  who 
ncher  ambition  nor  heart.  From  his 
tc,3  glares  at  me  and  says: — “  Ha!  ha! 
i  we  always  proud  and  high  spirited, 
In  ny  will  I  have  put  in  your  side  a 
t  r  life.  You  have  no  dignity  under 
act  will  sting  you  to  your  grave.  The 
y  o is  of  my  name  wTho  have  any  dignity 
ter! ay  will  are  your  sons,  Frank  and 
cy.vho  will  bear  my  name  to  posterity.” 
,  lien  Hardin,  knowing  that  I  am 
pie!  under  that  vail,  if  you  wall  persist 
:ryi  j  year  by  year  to  see  how  much  of 
1 1:  st  property  you  can  get  out  of  me 
tints  of  law,  by  personal  blandish- 
ntslto  my  trustees,  or  by  any  other 
anpif  you  doubt  and  will  not  see  that  I 
?ht  d  have  something  for  my  entire  life, 
ictl  he  intended  me  to  or  not,  then 
.rk  hat  will  be  the  finale  of  my  ven¬ 


geance  upon  that  dead  scoundrel  dog  who 
has  made  me  so  pitiable  before  men  and 
before  you.  I  will — so  help  me  the  demons 
who  wait  upon  the  persecu  eel  and  the 
proud  spirited  and  the  revengeful — I  will, 
when  stripped  by  you  of  my  property  (and 
you  mean  it  at  last)  plunge  my  dagger  into 
Frank  and  Tracy’s  heart,  and  cut  off  the 

Walworth  name  forever.  God  d - n  him, 

he  has  elevated  them  and  degraded  me,  and 
you  gloat  over  it.  I  have  not  one  single 
firm  right  under  his  will.  This  you  believe, 
and  this  has  been  the  cause  of  your  de¬ 
spising  and  abandoning  me.  With  cold, 
calm  purpose  you  contemplate  my  eventual 
beggary  and  humiliation.  I  will  kill  your 

boys  and  defeat  the  d - d  scoundrel  in 

his  grave  and  cut  off  his  d - d  name  for¬ 

ever.  Now  you  just  persecute  me  about 
that  property,  and  keep  this  thorn  alive  in 
my  heart,  by  the  eternal  God  I  will  kill 
them  and  you  too.  Now  you  hunt  my 

property  any  further - ,  and  I  '..  ill 

kill  your  boys  as  well  at  you.  The - - 

dead  villian  shan’t  rob  me  of  wife,  children 
and  property.  If  I  can’t  have  anything,  I’ll 

have  revenge.  -  I  have  lost  nearly 

everything  which  makes  life  tolerable. 

(The  letter  is  without  signature). 

The  reading  of  this  letter  was  listened  to 
with  the  deepest  attention  and  caused  pro¬ 
found  sensation.  The  mother  and  son  sat 
apparently  unaffected  during  the  reading. 

Mr.  O’Conor  then  read  the  provisions  of  the 
will  of  Chancellor  Walworth  affecting  his 
son  Mansfield.  His  share  is  given  in  trust 
for  the  use  of  himself  and  family.  Mr. 
O’Conor  also  read  the  decree  of  divorce  da¬ 
ted  February  7,  1871,  providing  for  the  sep¬ 
aration  of  Mansfield  T.  Walworth  from  his 
wife  Ellen  T.  Walworth,  and  for  the  mainte¬ 
nance  of  herself  and  children. 

Mrs.  Ellen  Hardin  Walworth  then  resumed 
the  stand  and  her  examination  was  contin¬ 
ued  by  Mr.  O’Conor. 

Q.  After  decree  of  divorce  when  did  you 
first  learn  that  Mr.  Walworth  had  any  wish 
to  visit  or  see  his  children  ?  A.  In  the  fall 
of  1872,  I  think  in  November. 

-  Q.  Had  you  known  of  this  clause  in  the 
decree  before  that  time  ?  A.  I  had. 


CO 


THE  WALWORTII  PARRICIDE. 


Q.  I)id  you  oppose  in  any  degree  his  being 
allowed  to  see  liis  children  ?  A.  Jdid  not,  I 
was  willing  that  they  might  be  seen  in  pres, 
ence  of  their  uncle,  Rev.  Clarence  Walworth, 
upon  a  week’s  notice  to  my  attorney. 

Mr.  O'Conor,  after  some  preliminary  ques¬ 
tions,  now  asked  whether  any  acts  of  perso¬ 
nal  violence  had  been  committed  upon  her 
by  her  husband,  while  they  resided  in  Fifty- 
second  street,  in  1871 

Mr.  Phelps  objected,  and  Mr.  O'Conor  sta¬ 
ted  that  they  intended  to  prove  that  such 
acts  were  perpetrated,  and  young  Frank 
came  into  the  room  at  the  time  ;  that  it  had 
a  very  great  effect  upon  him  for  a  long  time. 

The  Court — Do  you  intend  to  allege  that 
be  was  insane  when  this  act  was  commit, 
ted  ? 

Mr.  O'Conor — We  intend  to  allege  thathis 
mind  was  so  affected  that  he  was  not  sound 
at  the  time  of  his  interview  with  his  father. 

Mr  Beach  we  shall  furnish  evidence  show¬ 
ing  that  the  state  of  his  mind  was  such  that 
he  was  not  responsible. 

The  examination  was  resumed  and  the 
witness  said :  My  son  was  called  in  on  that 
occurrence;  it  was  about  eight  P.  M. ;  it 
was  about  ten  days  previous  to  the  separa¬ 
tion,  I  had  been  subjected  to  physical  vio¬ 
lence,  which  compelled  me  to  scream;  my 
scream  brought  in  Frank  ;  he  did  not  leave 
me  till  midday  of  next  day:  my  husband  re¬ 
mained  in  the  room,  until  next  morning :  I 
noticed  in  Frank  a  repitition  of  the  peculi¬ 
arities  I  had  noticed  four  months  before 
when  I  first  indicated  to  Frank  that  his  fa¬ 
ther  had  used  personal  violence  to  me ;  I 
showed  a  severe  bruise  on  my  arm ;  he 
showed  extreme  pallor,  and  I  noticed  a 
pinched  look  on  his  features  expressing  se¬ 
vere  suffering,  both  mental  and  physical ;  it 
alarmed  me  so  much  that  I  did  not,  on  his 
account,  afterwards  tell  him ;  he  was  very 
quiet,  and  simply  said  “This  must  not  be  !” 
on  this  occasion,  in  January,  as  soon  as  I 
myself  recovered,  I  noticed  the  same  symp¬ 
toms;  when  he  came  in  he  had  his  hand  on 
lMs  father's  shoulder,  and  said,  “Be  quiet, 
father;”  there  was  no  further  violence  by 
Ms  father ;  after  the  first  occasion  I  rarely 


spoke  to  Frank  of  his  father;  wc  very 
spoke  of  him;  on  a  few  occasions  | 
the  first  few  months  when  I  was  rei  i 
Mr.  Walworth's  letters,  I  saw  him  i  j 
them,  and  noticed  some  of  the  same  j 
toms  each  time;  afterwards,  when  I  i 
to  receive  them,  I  frequently  noticed :  | 
symptoms  without  knowing  the  cans* 
thought  his  health  was  affected  ;  onc<| 
him  most  violently  affected,  as  I  kne  i 
day  by  receiving  the  letter  which  | 
read;  I  was  called  up  by  one  of  the  cl  | 
saying  ‘ 4  Frank  is  sick ;  ”  1  went  i  j 
found  him  with  his  body  rigid  and  this  J 
of  which  I  have  spoken ;  I  applied  su  | 
toratives  as  I  couldt  and  he  shortly  fcji 
a  profound  sleep  for  an  hour ;  I  notio  i 
ilar  symptoms  on  various  occasio: 
greater  or  less  degree;  he  was  before i 
let  him  know  about  his  father  a  veijl 
joyous  boy  after  that  he  was  at  time  n 
quiet  and  abstracted  there  was  a  red 
failure  of  his  memory  wc  used  to  la  I 
him  as  absent  minded  .  ho  would  go  I 
room  for  some  article  of  dress  to  go  <1 
come  down  without  it;  go  down 
forget  his  errand,  and  aftci  locking  1 
house  would  go  round  to  lock  up  9 
sometimes  two  or  three  times;  he  \a 
stractcdat  the  table;  sevcralotimcs  ssl 
from  bis  room  woke  me  up  and  I  wen  J 
door ;  bis  pillow  was  stained  at  times  B 
Frank  the  Monday  lie  left  Sarat* 
noticed  bis  extreme  paleness  then;ia 
bis  great  paleness;  when  be  wasintlq 
of  abstraction  be  generally  bad  a  sat  <■ 
he  was  always  courteous  to  others,  1m 
fore  this  he  was  lively ;  he  was  not  sum 
fits  of  anger;  his  character,  so  faras  lolj 
was  invariably  good,  both  as  to  anfl 
and  uprightness;  there  was  nothing  t» 
vice,  or,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  an  ir:M 
ity  in  him ;  he  was  always  amiable  aiHI 
in  the  family,  but  not  demonstrative  ;>|| 
never  in  my  hearing  uttered  any 
against  liis  father;  I  mentioned  to  Fan 
occurrence  which  took  placcat  the  IN 
House  between  liis  father  andmybrctfl 
told  him  that  liis  father  had  ente^  1 
brother's  room,  while  he  was  in  bt,  W 
presented  a  pistol  at  his  head  while  sfl 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


51 


;  hat  fact  I  had  no  personal  knowl- 
f  it  was  stated  to  me. 

'Conor  produced  four  packages 
t<3  written  by  Mansfield  T.  Wal- 
hich  were  identified  by  witness 
is  handwriting.  The  packages 
nrked  “Exhibits  9,  10,  11,  12, 
dl4,  ”  and  were  to  be  read  in  evi- 
t  the  jury  at  another  stage  of  the 
d  gs,  unless  the  ruling  of  the  Court 
t  adverse  to  their  introduction.  T«he 
m  ined  19  letters  written  by  the  de- 
tMrs.  Walworth.  The  second  ex- 
o:ained  two  small  sheets  of  paper 
tr  e  envelopes  wrapped  around  sev. 
rission  caps,  balls,  and  a  small  quan- 
f  >owder.  The  remaining  exhibits 
n  Ibout  the  same  number  of  letters 
a  Mrs.  Walworth  at  another  period 
hj  brother,  General  Hardin,  and  Mr. 
orii’s  sister  Eliza  Backus. 

0,onor  then  asked  Mrs.  Walworth 
nig  the  condition  of  her  husband’s 


qjstion  was  objected  to. 

Otonor  insisted  that  an  important 
at  |i  estimating  the  condition  of  the 
r'  mind  was  the  condition  of  the 
Vind,  and  these  letters,  notone, 
uir,  could  hardly  have  proceeded 
input  an  insane  mind.  It  was  with  a 
io  sow  a  hereditary  stain  of  insanity 
ues  letters  would  be  admissible. 

( urt  in  this  view  admitted  the 
onf 

I 

Wjness — I  have  seen  him  in  his  con- 
:ioij  about  very  ordinary  topics  sud- 
bejn  to  talk  upon  some  other  subject 


himself  into  confusion,  throw  his 
atly  about,  and  talk  very  violent¬ 
ly  unnaturally;  he  wore  a  very 


as  (press ion,  and  when  lie  did  not 
ithjiolence  toward  myself  he  general- 
eni  d  his  fury  upon  some  object  in 
Jin- perhaps  apiece  of  furniture,  and 
ing  ie  happened  to  have  in  his  hand 
aul® break;  I  do  not  know  that  he 
1  eisnd  his  fury  upon  any  animal ;  it 
in  tji  summer  of  1865  I  first  noticed 
dent  manner;  it  was  in  1871  that 
|’t  him. 


The  Court  here  took  a  recess, .  after  which 
the  examination  of  the  witness  was  resumed 
by  Mr.  O’Conor.  She  was  asked  to  state  the 
peculiar  acts  of  violence  on  the  part  of  the 
deceased,  in  reference  to  herself,  as  showing 
his  temperament  and  disposition.  The 
Court,  doubting  the  propriety  of  this  course 
of  inquiry,  it  was  suspended. 

Q.  Did  you  notice  anything  else  peculiar 
about  Prank  after  these  spells?  A.  I  no¬ 
ticed  a  peculiar  flush  of  the  face  sometimes 
and  spots  over  the  upper  part  of  the  face  at 
such  times;  when  he  came  out  of  these 
spells  it  was  wTith  a  start ;  on  one  occasion 
he  fell  and  injured  his  head ;  that  was  when 
he  was  seven  or  eight  years  old;  he  wras 
struck  in  his  base  ball  club  once  and  com¬ 
plained  for  some  months  after  of  his  head. 

A  pistol  was  here  shown. 

Witness — I  know  this  pistol ;  it  was  pre¬ 
sented  to  the  Chancellor  by  the  inventor; 
he  gave  it  to  Mansfield  soon  after  and  he 
had  had  it  ever  since ;  he  had  another  pis¬ 
tol  besides. 

Mr.  O’Conor  informed  the  court  that  the 
five  barrels  were  loaded,  and  a  court  officer, 
by  direction  of  the  Court,  removed  the 
chambers.  This  was  the  pistol  which  had 
been  found  in  the  room  of  Mansfield  Tracy 
Walworth. 

This  closed  the  direct  examination,  and 
Mrs.  Walworth  was  cross-examined  by  Mr. 
Phelps.  In  reply  to  questions  she  said:  I 
saw  Frank’s  pistol  in  his  possession  two 
weeks  before  he  left  Saratoga;  he  usecl  to 
keep  it  in  his  room;  I  had no*intimation  of 
his  departure,  on  that  Monday,  until  I  re¬ 
ceived  the  message  that  if  he  was  not  back 
to  supper  he  would  not  be  back  that  night, 
but  he  was  speaking  of  going.  In  reply  to 
further  questions  as  to  the  peculiar  condi¬ 
tions  of  her  son’s  health  she  stated  that  she 
noticed  a  certain  rigidity  of  the  limbs 
which  would  last  perhaps  half  an  hour. 

Q".  When  did  you  last  see  Mansfield?  A. 
From  the  time  I  left  Mew  York  in  January,  £ 
1871, 1  never  saw  Mr.  Walworth  again ;  his 
occupation  was  that  of  an  author;  his  first 
book,  written  soon  after  our  marriage,  was 
“The  Mission  of  Death,”  the  next  was 
“Lulu,”  then  “Stormcliffe,”  and  then  “War- 


THE  WALWORTH  FARRICIDE. 


*2 

Wick he  might  have  written  another  be¬ 
tween  “Warwick”  and  “Lulu;”  then  lie 
wrote  ‘  ‘  Beverley  ”  and  ‘ 1  Delaplaine I  re- 
f  member  there  was  an  earlier  one,  “called 
“Hotspur,”  which  came  after  “Lulu.” 

Mr.  O’Conor,  taking  up  a  book,  read  from 
it  a  list  of  Mr.  Walworth’s  works  in  the  fol¬ 
lowing  order,  and  it  was  taken  by  the  Court 
that  they  were  produced  in  that  order; 
“Warwick,”  “The  Mission  of  Death,” 
“Hotspur,”  “Lulu,”  “  Stormcliffe,”  “Del¬ 
aplaine,”  and  “Beverley.”  It  is  in  “Bev¬ 
erly”  that  Mr.  Walworth  is  said  to  portray 
his  own  unhappy  life  and  experience,  or  a 
large  portion  of  it. 

The  witness  further  stated  that  she  did 
not  know  how  the  two  volumes  of  MS.  of 
the  late  Chancellor’s  writings  got  into  Mans¬ 
field’s  possession. 

Clarence  Jenlcins  was  re-examined  by  Mr. 
O’Conor. 

Q.  You  stated  under  examination,  that 
you  went  to  the  room  of  Mansfield  with  the 
Coroner,  to  remove  the  articles  there  and 
take  care  of  them.  Did  you  find  a  loaded 
revolver?  A.  I  went  there  on  the  Thursday 
before  the  body  was  removed  from  the  city 
with  the  Coroner  and  Deputy  Coroner  Marsh, 
to  get  the  clothes,  and  in  the  drawer  we 
found  the  pistol  loaded,  and  it  has  so  re¬ 
mained  ;  I  called  the  Coroner’s  attention  to 
it,  and  he  examined  it,  and  replaced  it  in 
the  drawer,  and  locked  it  in,  and  it  remain¬ 
ed  there  until  I  took  it ;  it  remained  in  my 
possession  until  I  gave  it  to  you  just  now. 

On  the  cross-examination  by  Mr.  Phelps, 
the  witness  said  :  I  am  connected  with  the 
family ;  I  went  to  get  possession  of  the  pro¬ 
perty  under  authority  of  Mrs.  Walworth;  I 
found  a  great  many  writings  of  Mr.  Wal¬ 
worth  iu  the  room. 

To  Mr.  O'Conor  he  said :  The  deceased  oc¬ 
cupied  a  single  room  in  a  tenement-house. 

Mr.  Amsden  testified — I  reside  at  Saratoga 
<  Springs ;  I  am  a  gun  manufacturer ;  I  knew 
Chancellor  Walworth  quite  well;  I  know 
Frank  Walworth  quite  well;  I  have  seen 
considerable  of  him  for  a  year;  we  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  playing  whist  together; 
I  saw  him  one  Monday  morning,  on  Broad¬ 


way,  in  Saratoga ;  it  was  near  the  i 
station,  but  on  the  other  side;  on<: 
traduced  the  subject;  he  said  “TVi 
we  have  another  social  game  of  j 
said,  “Any  day  this  week;  this  af  i 
you  like;”  he  said,  “Won't  to-m 
ternoon  do  as  well?”  I  said,  “  An}  i 
like ;”  his  character  was  irrepr  d 
never  heard  he  had  a  fault. 

A  number  of  letters  were  them 
Charles  O'Conor,  written  byMansf  11 
Walworth  to  his  ■wife.  They  we  I 
Mr.  O’Conor  stated,  forthepurposN 
ing  the  insanity  of  the  deceased,  itl 
view  also  of  deducing  the  inherited 
of  his  son  and  murderer.  A  grea  a 
of  the  letters  were  written  while  tlffl 
proceedings  between  Walworth  an  hj| 
were  pending,  and  the  man  seer  to 
been  maddened  by  the  delays  arnbsl] 
ments  which  were  entailing  expea, 
him,  preventing  him  from  proceengji 
literary  work,  and  he  charges  it  au 
her  and  her  lawyer.  An  impo  ,ni 
about  the  letters  is  that  very  fe  an 
have  any  signature  attached,  ante] 
identified  by  the  handwriting.  MJ 
very  long,  one  containing  five  s  ets, 
are  written  in  an  irregular,  sprea(g| 
with  the  lines  unevenly  spaced,  H 
of  the  first  letter  is  not  given.  Itadsj 

“Why  do  you  not  sign  the  pa]  3 
your  lawger  says  he  sent  to  you?  toil 
an  honorable  settlement,  and  sii 
signed  by  me  promptly?  I  wai  1  Tj 
and  weeks  patiently,  but  as  yourlfj® 
the  doctors  wouldn't  allow  youhto* 
any  business  or  sign  it;  and-novria 
most  marvellous  breach  of  good  ith,  J 
lawyer  has  ruthlessly  and  trcache  islj| 
to  the  Trust  Company  which,  by  ties* 
the  lawyers  stipulated  should  bedtl 
If  you  incited  him  to  this  brea  o(^| 
you  met  a  most  signal  failure.  Affl 
instigator,  two-faced  also?  I  madycc* 
offers  to  get  to  my  work,  andgauoia 

$250.  As - is  my  judge  I  net' rcc® 

the  document,  which  I  would  1)  e 
by;  but  now  I  will  never  mak^ 
agreement.  Already  $250  of  i  l,ra 
money  gone  to  my  lawyer. 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


5S 


j _ God  !  aren’t  you  going  to  sign  tlie 

;f,ent  your  lawyer  sent  you?  You  are 
n  n  keeping  me  from  success  by  wast- 
t ;  precious  dollars  and  tormenting  me 
n  settlement  has  been  agreed  upon- 
itlod*  woman,  let  me  go  to  my  work. 

.  ]  rdest  time  for  “Delaplaine”  is  here, 
i weeks  the  fate  of  the  book  is  told. 
nSardin,  sign  this  paper,  which  you 
■e  to  sign.  Great  God,  are  you  going 
11  v  that  crafty  lawyer  to  get  your  name 
t!  t  get  my  name  as  the  author  of  “  War- 
i  to  spread  his  name  before  the 
ei:an  public  as  a  divorce  lawyer?  For, 
u  as  God  is  in  heaven,  if  this  agree- 
itsn’t  signed  I  will  place  the  facts  be- 
■  e  public;  but  that  is  not  my  only 
iu:e,  there  is  murder  and  suicide  also? 
wal’d  six  weeks  patiently,  and,  by  the 
—  God,  I  will  give  you  no  more  time, 
it  trow  “  Delaplaine”  into  the  ditch,  re- 
ulie  divorce  and  sue  for  my  children 
lies  you  sign  the  agreement,  and  will 
voi  the  rest  of  my  life  to  fighting  in  the 
ir,  and  with  murder  and  suicide  in  the 


July  17,  1571. 

u - dishonorable - .  $200  more  of 

pcious  money  gone  to  my  lawyers.  I 
n ;  get  into  a  situation  where  I  can 
rtifresh,  and  every  delay  causes  loss, 

1  e  plank  is  riven  from  under  my  feet 
1  am  on  the  verge  of  beggary  and 
p  ation  every  hour.  Why  do  not  you 
n  id  give  me  a  chance  in  life?  I  signed 
mtly.  Why  must  this  damnable  extor- 
al)f  money  for  every  adjournment  go 
’  Jon't  you  know  that  your  lawyer  is 
irng  you  for  every  delay?  Oh!  I  am 
zfor  just  a  few  dollars  to  push  my  book 
Dijiplaine”  into  success,  and  “  Delap- 
uc  is  dying — dying !  Two  years  more 

n  life  wasted!  Oh!  - on  Calvary — 

t  >  not  think  the  last  cry  means  weak- 

ss  as,  by  the  E - 1  G — ,  in  wasting  my 

ic  ou  have  armed  me.  May - 

i.  I  revoke  every  promise  I  made  you. 
tbnot  revoke  my  legal  agreement.  I 
n  by  it  as  I  do  by  every  honorable 
renent  I  ever  made.  It  is  your  lawyer 
ltilayed  me  false.  This  last  trick  of 


your  lawyer,  that  it  is  necessary  to  make  a. 
stipulation  that  I  will  not  break  my  engage¬ 
ment  is  frivolous.  Why  didn’t  he  think  of 

it  before  ?  I  do  not  care  a - ;  but  put  it  in 

fifty  times  if  you  like;  but  hurry  up,  and 
stop  this  useless  waste  of  money  since  the 
first  day  I  entered  Charles  M.  Whitney’s 

office.  Eternal - ,  can’t  we  get  it  signed? 

He  told  me  the  lawyer  had  put  the  money 
stipulation  into  the  agreement  of  his  own. 
option ;  and  even  Judge  Barbour  says  to  me 
that  Whitney  is  a  Yankee  puppy,  making- 
out  of  the  misery  and  patience  and  agonies 
of  others,  delay  and  pay,  and  to  get  it  be¬ 
fore  the  public  in  the  Courts;  and  I  am 

d - d  sure  he  is  pursuing  the  course  to 

get  it  there.  I  agreed  with  Judge  Barbour 
to  relinquish  all  nearly  to  you  but  two  hun¬ 
dred  dollars,  and  Whitney  never  sent  the 
agreement  to  me,  according  to  promise. 

PIe  i3  a - liar;  he  never  sent  it  to 

me.  Hurry  up  for  - - sake,  - 

- vou.  You  are  a  fool. 

July  8,  1871. 

Your  lawyer  asked  another  adjournment 
to-day.  I  cannot  hold  out  longer.  The 
pistols  are  loaded.  If  you  succeed  in  get¬ 
ting  the  $950  from  the  trust  estate  of  my 
father  I  shall  shoot  you,  stamp  out  your  life 
with  my  boot  and  shoot  myself  if  your 
mother  is  not  near.  If  she  is  near  I  will 
use  the  second  shot  on  her  body  and  the 
third  on  myself,  behind  the  car.  Why? 
Murder  for  $950,  you  ask?  Why?  Because 
you  robbed  me  of  my  young;  and  now,  in 
my  miserable  agony,  on  the  loss  of  all  that 
makes  life  tolerable,  you  remorselessly  seek 
to  knock  from  under  a  despairin'.;  wretch 
the  last  plank  on  which  he  ~  :  ■  -i-t-.-e  t.  I 

went  to  Judge  Barbour’s  to  kill  you;  that 
door  chain  alone  saved  you.  If  you  do  not 
sign  the  papers  your  lawyer  soys  he  sent 
you  to  sign,  and  which  your  sickness  alone 
prevented  you  from  signing,  I  shall  shoot 
you.  You  are  dealing  with  a  despairing, 
demoniacal  murderer,  or  whatever  despair 
makes  a  man.  Sign  d - n  quick. 

July  29,  1871. 

Your  lawyer  says  to  my  lawyer  that  on 
Saturday  he  put  a  slight  modification  in  the 
articles  of  agreement  which  he  thought 


54 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


necessary  for  your  protection,  and  laid 
before  you  to  sign.  Is  tliat  truth?  And  is 
the  delay  solely  due  to  your  not  signing? 

He  says  so.  Great  -  cannot  this  thing 

be  closed  promptly  and  business  like,  and 
the  waste  of  money  on  the  lawyers  stopped? 

By  the  Eternal - ,  1  cannot  bo  trifled  with 

any  longer.  Sign  promptly  and  business 
like.  "Why  am  I  so  eager?  Because  I  am 
hungry,;.!-'.  s;m\ mA..  L.ghio  to  t.aru  me 
in  the  face  ;  and  this,  added  to  the  agonies 
of  my  heart,  will  make  me  murder  you  my¬ 
self.  Oh,  can't  yOh  see  it?  Won't  you 
sign  it  and  make  your  lawyer  close  it  up 
as  quickly  as  he  can?  Can't  you  telegraph 
to  him  to  hurry  it  up  and  close  the  busi¬ 
ness?  Iam  so  hungry  and  so  weak,  and 
the  pistols  for  you  are  lying  loaded  beside 
me  all  the  time.  My  book  failed  to  bring 
me  money  and  my  efforts  to  get  a  situation 
have  failed.  Iain  a  hungry  demon,  and  am 
longing  to  lap  my  tongue  in  soft  blood. 
You  are  making  your  grave  by  the  delay. 
But  we  shall  lie  so  peacefully  side  by 
side  in  death.  O  sweet  Death!  Sweet 
Death. 

Satukday  Nigiit, 
(Supposed  to  be  July,  1871.) 

I  have  just  come  from  the  lawyer's  office. 
He  says  the  agreement  has  not  been  signed 

and  returned  from  Saratoga. - you. 

Sign  it  and  let  me  out  of  the  expenses  of 

the  law.  May  — ; —  -  the  expenses  of 

the  law  that  are  beggaring  me ! - 

you.  You  are  planning  some  other  evasion 
of  your  plighted  word.  Beware  of  me. 
God  damn  you.  I  am  dangerous.  Listen 
to  the  murderer's  hiss  and  beware  of  me! 
"iou  robbed  me  of  my  children  and  you 
want  to  rob  me  of  my  pittance.  I  am 
watching  you  with  a  hawk’s  eye  and  a  de¬ 
spairing  heart.  Woman,  why  in  God’s 
name  don’t  you  sign  the  papers?  The  pistol 
is  lying  beside  me  loaded  that  will  relieve 
me  from  starvation  and  hell,  and  like  a  flam¬ 
ing  demon  I  will  scatter  your  brains.  I  am 

in  earnest, - you.  Do  the  words 

sound  tame  on  paper?  Hog’s - ,  I  will 

murder  you  for  depriving  me  of  my  sweet, 
darling  money.  Hist!  Hist!  Hist!  Let 
that  ring  through  your - inhuman  ears. 


The  broken-hearted  wretch  will  ( g| 
torturer  with  him  to  hell. 

July  28,  ^ 

Again,  to-day,  I  have  been  to  my 
He  says  the  papers  to  be  signed  by  irf 
still  in  Saratoga.  You  are  delayii  J 
of  hell.  Another  adjournment  to  ^ 
for  and  the  pennies  sca^pe  1  The  1 J 
wretch,  grasps  his  pistol!  You  fa ,1 
the  hopeless  author  his  last  hope.  '■ 
avaricious  wretch,  I  grasp  the  deai  i 
pon  for  both  of  us.  Stand  off  that  p  m 
You  robbed  me  of  everything  swccqfl 
and  of  peace,  and  I  want  to  wreak  lj| 
vengancc  on  you  if  you  do  not  reljBj 

your  grasp  on  the  only  thing. - 

you,  you  can  appreciate  my  money  £ 
the  papers  you  agreed  to  sign  Ion;  l« 

long  ago,  and  I  will  let  you  go,  - Jh 

ging  my  heartstrings  after  you.  Bu  et) 
my  sweet,  darling,  precious  mone;  1 
late  I  have  learned  that  money  is  tl  hi 
of  life  a  fid  that  for  industrious  porertg 
is  no  home,  no  hope,  no  success  in  e,! 
love  of  children ;  and  I  clutch  the  idi 
with  a  demon's  clutch,  with  a  mu  a 
clutch,  and  I  would  gladly  murdi  feu 
and  die.  Sign  the  papers  which  you  a 

to  sign, - .  Ycu  have  miscallul 

Mansfield  Tracy  Walworrh  as  other  hi 
done.  You  will  awake  to  the  rcalitrch 
you  beggar  me  and  the  bullet  asl 
through  your  skull  and  through  mine  its 

off - you !  I  asked  you  to  dnol 

ing  that  your  lawyers  have  not  sti  lat 

for, - you,  false,  cold,  fill 

hearted  - - . 

Monday,  10  a.  m.  (supposed  to  body! 

That  same  pleading,  ever-prescnletj 
mination  is  working  me  up  to  the  fin  tn 
edy.  I  go  down  in  five  minutes  tos« 
my  lawyer  has  received  and  filed  tluga 
ment  signed.  But  my  superhuman  cot 
sight  tells  me  that  you  have  again  jinirit 
ted,  and  that  Chancellor  Walworth’s  «q 
er  son  must  be  a  murderer  and  a  suicid  J 
be  it !  I  have  done  al  1 1  could  to  avet  t. 
have  waited  patiently  for  weeks.  'u» 
pushing  on  your  doom.  By  the  era 
- ,  Ellen  Hardin,  the  ]rp° 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


63 


Ihree  years  of  your  life  of  abandoning 
i  and  grasping  that  property  shall  be 
arted  in  your  blood  and  mine.  If  you 
i  the  catastrophe  comes  as  sure  as  fate 

J-. - you.  All  the  intensity  of  hate  in 

1  life  is  centered  on  you.  Listen  for  the 
-  k  of  the  pistol ! 

Publication  House  Carle  ton  &  Co.  ) 
August  27  ( 

gn  this  paper  and  I  will  trouble  no  fur- 
i(,  The  devil  says  to  me,  you  fool,  she 
fts  to  beggar  you  ;  she  wants  two-thirds 
re  her  father  died;  she  has  kicked  you 
a  ike  a  dog ;  she  docs  not  care  a  groat 
Lhcryou  succeed  or  not;  she  means  to 
>i  ent  you  about  that  property,  because  she 

; - woman — a  thief  and  a  traitress. 

o  sign  this  paper,  and  I  will  try  to  bring 
li tortured  brain  once  more  down  to  lite- 
irlwork.  My  lawyer'  says,  She  will  never 
g  anything  that  you  want  her  to,  because 

ngloats  in  torturing  you.  - 7  you,  Ellen 

a  in.  It  is  in  me  to  succeed  at  books  if 
)i  cave  me  alone  and  take  the  apprehen- 
o  of  lawsuits  from  me.  Sign  this  paper 

r  siorturcd  author  will  kill  you,  by  - - . 

’1  did  you  make  me  give  up  my  children 
>  m  and  make  no  fight  for  them?  Because 
tl  light  the  trust  property  would  be  leftto 
icind  that  I  could  succeed  as  an  au- 
10  My  lawyer  says,  she  says  I  am 
f<l ;  that  she  hates  me;  that  you  say 
on  dll  do  nothing  that  I  want  you  to  do 
is(o  keep  you  uneasy,  and  that  your  brain 
n  it  bend  to  literary  work ;  she  knows 
aiif  you  succeed  her  affidavits  must  be 
erjries  before  the  world.  Now,  si  on  this 
up ,  or  I  will  murder  you.  I  do  not  be- 
ev  nany  God,  but  I  believe  there  is  a  devil, 
ndhat  devil  is  you.  Why,  in  the  name 
f  enmon  sense,  after  you  robbed  me  of 
Lie  /eetness  of  life,  do  you  not  leave  me 
i  ulistubed  possession  of  the  property,  so 
iiat  can  stay  in  New  York  and  work  ?  Here 
ndi  ry  accomplishes  wonders,  even  in  the 
ien  profession  of  authorship.  Sign  this 
aP{  as  a  guarantee.  What  did  Whitney 
ioa  when  he  said  there  would  be  more 
-ou,e  about  the  property— that  the  Har- 
iinSmde  will  not  allow  them  to  contend 
boi  this  little  property?  In  the  name  of 


God,  -when  I  gave  you  my  children  for 
money,  am  I  not  allowed  to  live  in  peace, 
when  I  -would  sell  my  soul  for  it?  Oh, 
money  is  as  sweet  to  the  Ilardins  as  any¬ 
body  else;  but  there  is  not  one  of  them 
who  has  courage  to  murder  for  money  as  I 
have,  and  I  will  if  I  am  not  left  in  peace 
with  this  two-thirds ;  for  when  that  goes 
my  last  plank  of  ambition  will  be  taken 
from  under  me  and  I  will  murder.  So  hard, 
so  hard  is  an  author’s  fate. 

(The  agreement  which  he  icanted  signed.) 

“I  promise  before  God  to  abstain  against 
all  law  suits  or  take  any  of  the  property.  I 
am  satisfied  with  one-third  which  he  has 
relinquished  for  my  relief.  I  know  he  has 
hell  enough  to  carry  on  his  irind  from  re¬ 
morseless  children,  without  my  crippling 
him  by  law  suits  for  more  money.  Sign  this 
paper  to  give  me  mental  rest,  necessay  for 
literary  work.  I  will  not  approach  his  trust 
again  or  enter  any  court  so  long  as  I  receive 
one-third  trust  property.” 

The  reading  of  the  letters  continued  from 
about  half-past  two  o’clock  until  ten  min¬ 
utes  past  five  o’clock  in  the  afternoon.  They 
■were  all  of  the  same  ribald,  blasphemous 
tenor,  some  of  them  absolutely  surpassing 
belief.  The  court  room  was  as  still  as  death. , 
Every  voice  was  hushed  but  that  of  the  great 
old  lawyer,  and  as  his  clear,  emphatic  tones 
rang  through  the  corridors  outside,  every 
heart  was  stilled  with  horror.  One  letter' 
was  addressed  to  Judge  Barbour,  threatening 
him  that  he  would  shoot  him  in  the  public 
street  and  fall  a  suicide  over  his  body  if  he 
interfered  between  his  wife  and  himself,  and 
if  his  property  was  not  restored  to  him. 

Another  was  addressed  to  Father  Clar-(  . 
ence  Walworth,  announcing  that  he  inten-, 
ded  to  kill  him  if  he  egged  his  wife  on 
against  him,  and  saying  that  he  would  spit 
upon  the  religion  which  could  make  a  saint 

out  of  such  a - as  him.  In  some  were 

found  bullets  and  caps,  and  inotliers  powder.  J 

In  one  was  found  an  extract  from  a  news-U 
paper,  in  which  the  foul  murder  of  a  wife M 
by  a  husband  -was  described,  and  this  he  li¬ 
kened  to  the  tragedy  which  was  impending 
over  her. 

One  addressed  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Backus, 


66  THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


threatened  herself  and  her  family  with  death 
if  $200  of  property,  which  he  said  was  kept 
from  him,  was  not  restored  to  him.  He  said 
the  book  trade  was  G— d  d — d  bad,  and 
that  $200  would  have  got  him  circulars,  and 
he  could  have  made  a  success  of  his  book 
and  made  hundreds  of  dollars. 

Another  to  Mrs.  Backus  was  as  follows : 

My  Dear  Sister :  I  have  conceived  the 
great  secret  of  my  existence. '  I  was  not 
born  as  men  are,  but  was  let  down  from 
heaven  in  a  basket.  All  who  have  pre¬ 
ceded  me  are  imposters.  I  am  the  true 
Messiah.  It  will  cause  a  great  commotion 
on  the  earth  when  I  am  summoned,  for  I 
shall  be  a  soldier-king,  and  have  in  heaven 
— the  home  of  my  Father-God.  *  *  * 
You,  of  course,  are  not  morally  my  sistep, 
but  during  our  terrestrial  intercourse  you 
have  manifested  such  kindness  for  me  that 
I  shall  make  you  one  of  the  queens  of  the 
earth.  *  *  *  Keep  this  secret  until  I 
am  announced  by  the  sound  of  10,000  trum¬ 
pets,  then  fall  down  and  worship  me,  for  I 
am  M.  T.  Walworth,  the  true  and  eternal 
son  of  God. 

And  so  the  letter  runs  on  like  the  ravings 
of  an  excited  maniac. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  reading  of  the 
letters,  the  Court  adjourned  till  Monday 

—  On  Monday  morning,  June  30,  the  Court 
met  at  ten  o'clock.  The  proceedings  were 
delayed  some  time  by  the  absence  of  one  of 
the  jurors.  Immediately  after  the  Court 
met,  the  prisoner,  accompanied  by  his 
mother,  uncle  and  a  number  of  other  rela¬ 
tives,  was  brought  in,  and  counsel  for  and 
against  him  appeared  in  their  seats.  The 
court  room  was  at  once  filled.  The  priso¬ 
ner's  uncles,  aunts  and  numerous  relatives 
gathered  around  him  and  almost  screened 
him  from  view  of  the  curious.  Next  him 
sat  his  mother,  dressed  in  deep  mourning, 
with  a  face  of  Parian  marble  in  its  beauty 
« ■and  coldness,  and  the  two  held  whispered 
;  converse  ail  through  the  long  wait  for  the 
juror.  Ko  anxiety  was  visible  in  the  coun¬ 
tenance  of  either.  Sometimes  a  ripple  of  a 
smile  would  cross  the  countenances  of  both, 
and  again  a  sudden  look  of  intense  affection 


would  illumine  the  eyes  of  each  anc 
gone. 

At  10:40  the  juror,  Mr.  Chamberlain, 
still  absent.  Justice  Davis  asked  the  c 
jurors  if  they  knew  any  reason  for  his 
sencc.  The  foreman  replied  that  Mr.  Cl 
bcrlain  went  to  Milburn,  N.  J.,  on  Satur 
lie  promised  to  return  at  10:15  to-day. 

Almost  immediately  after  Justice  I 
received  a  dispatch,  as  follows : 

Turner's  Station,  N.  J.,  June! 
Train  broke  down.  Will  be  two  1 
late.  J.  A.  I 

A  recess  was  then  taken  till  one  o’ck 
At  half  past  one  all  the  jurors  wc 
their  seats,  and  the  trial  was  continue 
recalling  Mrs.  Walworth  to  the  wi 
stand. 

Mr.  O'Conor  repeated  the  question 
former  day  as  to  acts  of  violence  to  d> 
insanity,  and  the  witness  continued 
the  summer  of  18G5  I  was  spending  s 
days  at  Saratoga  and  had  been  on 
pleasant  terms  with  Mr.  Walworth; 
evening  at  that  time  I  went  out  with  (i 
cellor  Walworth  and  two  friends;  wc 
cd  one  of  the  hotels,  staying  for  a  Ic 
time  and  returning  about  ten  o'clock 
my  return  I  found  that  he  was  in  the  jo 
and  that  he  had  the  door  locked;  9 
knocking  a  couple  of  times  lie  opencH 
door;  he  looked  with  fury  at  me,  andi 
a  terrible  oath  exclaimed,  “I  will  show 
how  you  will  leave  me  of  an  ev'ii 
again'7;  he  siezed  me  by  the  arm  and  pi 
me  v>  ith  great  violence ;  he  pushclj 
against  the  furniture  and  literally  toJ 
clothes  from  my  back;  when  I  took  i  n 
infant  to  leave  the  room  he  connnandt  l 
in  the  most  threatening  manner  to  v 
down  again  and  myself ;  in  an  hourcifl 
lie  fell  asleep  and  I  escaped  from  the  oi 
He  had  been  in  the  habit  of  acting  in 
very  violent  manner  for  a  great  many  ai 
Q.  After  this  occurrence  in  lSGtjn 
detailed  by  you,  state  any  further  bs 
quent  acts  that  recur  to  you.  A.  .  tl 
summer  of  1869,  when  my  sister  liaise 
me  some  clothing  and  other  preset 1 
various  kinds  for  the  children,  withojar 
previous  signs  of  displeasure,  he  arossu< 


1  The  young  man  delivered  to  the  Sergeant  a  small  Colt’s  five-shooter,  with 
four  of  the  barrels  discharged — ‘  That,’  said  he,  ‘  is  the  pistol  I 
shot  him  with.’  ” — See  Page  22. 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


tnly  in  the  night,  and  swore  at  his  sister 
i  a  most  -violent  manner  and  commenced 
t  search  the  house  for  the  articles  and 
LStroyed  them;  at  that  time  his  appear- 
aee  was  very  remarkable,  as  were  also  his 
v  rds  and  gestures. 

State  as  well  as  you  can  the  nature 
at  character  of  his  appearance  when  he 
vs  enraged.  A.  He  was  always  extremely 
peand  had  the  look  of  a  wild  beast;  1 
ctnot  imagine  any  other  expression  like 
it 

l.  State  any  other  instances  of  this  vio- 
lit  conduct  or  variety  of  acts  which  you 
t  n  observed.  A.  At  another  time,  about 
ne  o’clock,  after  spending  a  quiet  even- 
ir,  he  came  to  my  room  door,  and  as  I 
oued  the  door  I  saw  that  he  wore  the 
ene  terrible  expression,  and,  with  both 
a:is  uplifted,  he  uttered  those  fearful  ex- 
cmations,  “Hardin  shall  not  rob  me  of 
n  wife  and  children,”  although  we  had 
n  seen  my  brother  for  a  long  time  pre- 
vusly;  he  then  struck  me  violently,  and 
rued  me  in  his  arms  in  ti  c  most  violent 
miner  and  threw  me  on  the  bed,  where  I 
k  for  some  time  unconscious ;  on  another 
0  Msion  he  suddenly  sprung  ou  me  and 
stick  me. 

).  And  all  this  was  done  suddenly  and 
whout  previous  cause  of  excitement?  A. 

Y. 

>.  So  that  his  acts  on  these  occasions 
w,  e  altogether  unaccountable  to  you?  A. 
T:y  were. 

;J.  Was  his  violence  on  these  occasions 
mat  and  serious?  A.  Yes,  sir,  they  were 
gilt  and  serious. 

;.  And  you  stated  that  these  acts  were 
alays  accompanied  with  oaths?  A.  Yes, 
si  they  were. 

;.  Can  you  state  any  particular  instance 
tcpresent  any  different  illustration  that 
a]  ears  to  you  that  might  account  for  those 
ac  ?  A.  At  the  time  of  his  father’s  death 
in  was  subject  repeatedly,  perhaps  every 
d.',  to  these  violent  furies,  in  which  he 
wild  abuse  his  father  and  brother;  he  did 
n<  expend  all  his  fury  on  me ;  he  would 
st  je  the  furniture  and  break  it  -with  what¬ 


69 

ever  he  might  seize  in  his  hand ;  he  did  this 
very  frequently  after  his  father’s  death. 

Q.  On  any  of  these  occasions  of  this 
peculiar  conduct  did  you  receive  any  such 
violence  as  the  use  of  his  teeth  upon  you? 
A.  Yes,  in  my  finger;  he  bit  my  finger 
severely. 

Q.  I  observe  that  in  those  letters  which 
Mr.  Walworth  addressed  to  you  to  several 
of  them  are  no  signatures.  Do  you  know 
any  reason  for  that?  Was  that  a  habit  of 
his?  A.  It  was  not  his  habit  when  he 
wrote  ordinary  business  letters. 

Q.  What  was  his  condition  as  to  strength 
and  height;  what  sort  of  a  man  was  Jie 
physically?  A.  lie  was  five  feet  eleven ;  an 
unusually  robust  man ;  in  the  habit  of  exer¬ 
cising  himself  by  long  walks ;  he  used  the 
dumb  bells  as  long  as  I  knew  him. 

Cross-examined  by  Mr.  Phelps — How  long 
prior  to  your  leaving  him  was  the  last  act 
of  violence?  A.  About  ten  days ;  after  that 
I  was  ill. 

Q.  Was  he  aware  of  your  intention  to 
depart  before  you  left  him?  A.  He  was 
not. 

Q.  After  the  act  of  violence  which  oc¬ 
curred  ten  days  before  you  left  the  house, 
had  you  any  interview  with  him?  A.  He 
came  to  my  room  ;  but  never  without  some 
one  being  there. 

Q.  At  what  time  did  you  leave  the  house? 
A.  In  the  morning,  about  ten  o’clock. 

Q.  I  understood  you  to  say  that  from 
that  time  you  never  saw  him?  A.  I  did 
not  see  him  again. 

Q.  Have  you  any  means  of  determining 
in  a  general  way  the  letters  which  you  re^ 
ceived  from  him  and  know  the  contents  of 
and  those  which  were  since  shown  you? 
A.  Yes;  I  think  I  can  distinguish  between 
them. 

Q.  Can  you  discriminate  between  all  these 
letters  as  between  those  you  first  saw  and 
those  aftenvards  shown  to  you?  A.  There 
might  be  a  few  I  could  not  point  out,  but 
as  a  general  thing  I  would  know  them  all. 

Q.  What  was  the  last  letter  yon  received? 
A.  The  letter  I  received  7th  August,  1872. 

Q.  Did  you  understand  that  the  letters 
produced  in  Court  and  read  here  were  all 


CO 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


\he  letters  received?  A.  Not  quite  all;  Mr. 
O'Conor  has  some  more, 

Q.  Did  you  answer  any  cf  those  letters? 
A.  I  did  not;  I  wrote  one  letter  about  two 
or  :hree  weeks,  perhaps,  after  I  left  him ;  I 
submitted  it  to  a  friend — my  lawyer ;  that 
letter  was  given  to  him,  I  understand ;  I 
never  sent  him  a  line  after  that. 

Q.  With  the  exception  of  that  letter 
which  was  submitted  by  you  to  a  lawyer 
before  sending  it  you  have  had  no  commu¬ 
nication  with  him  of  any  description  since 
the  separation?  A.  None  at  all;  he  may 
have  had  messages  from  my  lawyer. 

Q.  You  communicated  nothing  directly 
with  Mr.  Walworth?  A.  Nothing  in  any 
■wry. 

Q.  The  letter  dated  September,  1872,  did 
you  receive  that?  A.  No. 

Q.  Ilave  you  seen  any  letters  later  than 
August?  A.  I  don’t  think  I  have. 

The  witness  then  left  the  stand. 

Two  packages  of  letters  were  handed  to 
her,  which  she  examined  at  the  table  beside 
which  she  sat,  on  the  immediate  right  of 
the  prisoner.  After  a  brief  examination  of 
the  letters  contained  in  these  packages  she 
handed  the  packages  back  to  Mr.  O’Conor, 
with  the  letters  withdrawn  from  them 
which  she  herself  had  received. 

An  entry  was  here  made  on  the  minutes 
that  the  District  Attorney  had  withdrawn 
his  objection  to  the  reading  of  any  letters, 
and  that  there  was  no  exception  in  reference 
thereto.  • 

Q.  By  Mr.  O’Conoi  -Are  those  all  you 
received  and  read  prior_to  the  first  of  June? 
A.  Yes;  I  think  that  is  all. 

Q.  l~ou  stated  that  some  of  those  letters 
found  in  Frank’s  secretary  were  unopened? 
A.  No ;  it  was  some  of  those  that  were 
handed  to  me  that  were  unopened  ;  this  was 
seven  or  eight  months  after  the  separation; 
at  that  time  there  was  a  package  of  letters 
handed  to  me,  and  among  these  were  those 
unopened  ones. 

Q.  What  letters  were  those  that  were 
unopened?  A.  I  think  they  were  generally 
those  which  contained  powder  and  balls. 

Lemuel  S.  Hardin ,  uncle  to  the  prisoner, 
was  next  put  upon  the  stand.  He  testified : 


— I  am  a  son  of  Colonel  Hardin  and  a  bn 
er  of  Mrs.  Walworth;  I  live  at  Louisvi 
Kv. ;  I  lived  with  my  sister  in  Kentu 
from  1861,  while  she  was  there  and 
husband  was  away ;  I  have  known  Fr 
all  his  life ;  I  spent  my  vacations  in  Sar 
ga  with  the  Chancellor ;  I  think  Frank  is  i 
best  boy  I  ever  knew ;  liis  devotion  to  , 
mother  was  perfect;  I  never  heard  j 
speak  ill  of  his  father;  never  heard  anj< 
speak  511  of  him. 

To  Mr.  Phelps — I  never  saw  him  an 
he  was  fond  of  sports  and  cheerful,  but? 
demonstrative,  he  had  a  fund  of  burnt o 
him;  he  was  never  irritable  or  irritated  < 
was  better  tempered  than  myself;  he  wi| 
my  office  six  months  about  two  years:)] 
can’t  fix  it  nearer;  it  was  before  the  sefii 
tion,  at  least  before  I  heard  of  it;  I h  d 
Frank  was  with  his  mother  when  thac- 
curred. 

To  the  Court — I  was  opposed  to  hisri- 
ing  lawr,  he  was  so  young,  but  he  see  d 
so  settled  and  so  little  disposed  to  fic 
that  I  assented. 

Gen.  Martin  B.  Hardin ,  another  unc!  )f 
the  prisoner,  testified: — Is  a  brother  of  s. 
Walworth;  was  stopping  at  the  Hof! in 
House,  in  New  York,  at  or  about  the  as 
at  which  his  sister  finally  separated  froE  er 
husband. 

Q.  What  was  your  condition  as  to  hcfll 
at  that  time?  A.  I  had  been  invalideca 
some  years,  partly  on  account  of  wo  ds 
and  partly  from  disease  contracted  iiht' 
army ;  at  that  time  I  had  not  entirely  rev¬ 
ered  from  my  wounds,  nor  have  I  y<[fl 
was  suffering  from  severe  wounds,  as  ell . 
as  having  lost  an  arm ;  I  was,  in  fact,  l'd- 
ly  able  to  go  about  at  the  time,  andit'M 
only  excitement  that  kept  me  up. 

Q.  Did  you  receive  a  visit  from  Mr.  al- 
worth  while  you  were  at  the  Hoffman  HsS! 
A.  I  did. 

Q.  At  what  hour  of  the  day  or  night 'as 
it?  A.  It  was  about  four  o’clock  in.h« ?i 
morning ;  I  was  asleep  at  the  time. 

Q.  Was  there  any  one  else  in  the  oin 
with  you  at  the  time?  A.  Yes;  thermal  - 
a  lawyer  there,  writing. 

Q.  Drawing  up  jvapers  for  the  purpuoy 


THE  WALWORTII  TARRICIDE. 


jjaning  the  divorce  case!  A.  Yes;  we 
ubeen  engaged  with  them  through  the 
jet;  I  went  to  bed  about  two  o’clock ;  was 
;1  p  when  I  was  awakened. 

<  By  what  were  you  awakened?  A.  By 
v  lent  knocking  at  the  door. 

(  What  then  happened?  A.  The  lawyer 
UEied  up  and  opened  the  door ;  Walworth 
at:  ill  and  walked  quietly  up  to  the  foot 
,f  jy  bed ;  he  kept  his  hand  by  his  side ;  I 
-astill  lying  in  bed ;  watched  him  close- 
;-;ie  asked  me,  “  Where  is  my  wife?”  he 
ej  questioning  me ;  told  him  to  keep 
up  and  allow  me  to  dress;  he  was  very 
m  excited ;  I  arose  and  was  putting  on 
iy pants,  still  keeping  my  eye  on  him 
tody ;  I  suddenly  jumped  towards  the 
lot'  and  drew  it  after  me ;  he  pursued  and 
oi:d  the  door  open;  he  had  his  pistol  in 
lisiand;  he  presented  it  at  me,  but  I  es- 
a]d  behind  a  double  arch  that  was  in  the 
a,;  people  then  came  rushing  to  the  spot; 
hcawyer  had  rung  the  bell  and  this  gather¬ 
'd  iem ;  in  a  few  seconds  a  policeman  came 
.n' arrested  him. 

■mrles  L.  Pond  testified  that  he  was  a  stu- 
iej  of  Union  College,  Schenectady ;  was  an 
utiate  friend  of  the  prisoner;  for  the  last 
ret  and  a  half  he  had  noticed  a  great 
nt;e  in  his  manner,  and  he  became 

%  i  ®  . 

iioise  and  moody;  he  on  one  occasion 
aid  out  loudly  in  his  sleep,  and  when 
ifess  went  to  see  what  was  the  matter  he 
old  him  sleeping  heavily;  witness  had 
Is  noticed  his  pillow  wet  in 'the  morning 
vi'  a  rusty  stain;  the  prisoner,  Wally 
la  our,  his  cousin  and  the  witness  had, 
a  jpril  last,  started  for  a  xvalk;  they  had 
;o:  but  a  short  distance  when  the  prisoner 
iin  enly  attacked  him  and  threw  him  down ; 
ip  i  asking  what  he  meant  Frank  made  no 
inrer,  did  not  even  look  at  his  questioner, 
m  soon  after  wanted  him  to  take  tea  with 
lii  he  never  made  any  allusion  to  his 
itr  ige  conduct  and  acted  as  if  he  was  not 
iw  e  of  what  he  had  done;  witness  was 
svi  him  on  the  Sunday  previous  to  the 
;h'  ting,  when  he  acted  as  if  he  was  sick ; 
;hi  had  made  arrangements  for  an  excur- 
sicj  to  the  woods  to  procure  some  flowers; 
ao  ent  part  of  the  way,  gathered  one  or 


two  and  then  went  home,  witness  and 
Wally  Barbour  continuing;  when  they  re¬ 
turned  they  found  him  asleep;  the  next 
morning  he  told  them  he  might  go  away  on 
Monday. 

Wahcorth  Parlour  testified — Resides  at 
Saratoga;  is  second  cousin  to  Frank;  have 
known  him  almost  all  his  life;  knew  his 
general  character  in  the  neighborhood  and 
among  his  friends  as  being  very  good  ;  never  v 
heard  a  word  against  him ;  heard  the  testi¬ 
mony  given  by  the  previous  witness,  Mr. 
Pond ;  it  was  correct  so  far  as  he  remem¬ 
bered  all  the  circumstances. 

Mr.  Smith,  a  resident  of  Saratoga,  testi¬ 
fied;— On  Sunday  the  1st  of  June,  Frank 
and  Mr.  Pond  called  at  my  place;  we  talked 
about  various  things;  finally  Frank  asked 
me  to  let  him  have  some  money,  that  he  was 
going  away  on  the  next  day  and  would  be 
back  on  Tuesday ;  I  told  him  I  had  no  mon¬ 
ey  with  me,  but  if  he  came  to  my  store  on 
Monday  morning  I  would  give  him  some; 
he  came  on  Monday,  and  I  gave  him  $15 ; 
he  said  lie  would  be  home  on  Tuesday  and 
make  it  all  right  with  me;  the  fare  from 
Saratoga  to  ISiew  York  is  four  dollars  and  a 
half. 

Augustus  Yon'  Belleau ,  recalled — When 
first  he  knew  Frank  lie  was  studious  and 
capable,  but  latterly  he  seemed  not  to  lose 
his  capacity,  but  his  memory;  he  learned 
German  with  witness,  and  he  spoke  it  pret¬ 
ty  well  and  wrote  it  with  case;  words  that 
he  learned  and  remembered  in  his  eailier 
studies  he  had  forgotten,  as  if  he  had  never 
learned  them;  latterly,  instead  of  his  usual 
cheerfu?  manner,  he  became  gloomy  and 
morose ;  sometimes  it  was  painful  to  see 
him ;  he  would  complain  of  great  weariness 
and  be  long  in  bed ;  his  face  would  flush 
and  suddenly  turn  pale,  and  a  strange  rat¬ 
tle  was  in  his  throat. 

Winnifred  Poach  was  housekeeper  for  the 
Walworths  in  Saratoga ;  knew  Frank  well ; 
the  morning  after  he  had  gone  she  noticed 
bad  stains  on  the  pillow,  blood  stains ; 
heard  screams  from  his  room  during  the 
night;  had  observed  these  stains  many  times 
before  that,  during  winter  and  spring;  and 
had  heard  him  scream  two  or  three  times 


62 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


before;  liis  appearance  was  very  strange 
sometimes,  very  pale  and  forgetful;  he’d 
travel  around  the  room  and  around  the 
yard  as  if  lie  whs  lost  entirely  and  ready  to 
drop  away;  he'd  come  down  to  relock 
the  doors  as  late  as  twelve  o’clock ; 
lie  was  the  only  male  in  the  house  except 
Tracy. 

To  Mr.  Phelps — He  would  come  down  at 
midnight  and  unlock  and  then  relock  the 
house ;  in  my  room  I  could  tell  his  move¬ 
ments;  sometimes  he’d  go  out;  he  would 
do  this  nearly  every  night;  once  in  a  while 
he’d  go  out ;  sometimes  he  looked  frighten¬ 
ed  ;  he’d  walk  fast;  Saturday  evening  be¬ 
fore  he  left  home  noticed  this. 

Joseph  W.  Hill,,  recalled — Has  known 
Frank  for  over  a  year;  when  he  first  came 
to  his  law  office  lie  was  studious,  but  soon 
observed  something  that  made  him  believe 
Frank  had  something  absorbing  on  his 
mind ;  he  wouldn’t  converse  as  usual,  and 
made  no  progress  in  his  studies:  these  hab¬ 
its  continued,  until  he  would  come  to  the 
office  and  notice  nobody,  sitting  there  unoc¬ 
cupied  for  two  hours,  and  then  leaving;  lie 
complained  of  being  languid  and  sick. 

Dorothy  Smith  (colored) — Had  been  ser¬ 
vant  of  the  family  all  her  life;  knew  Frank 
since  he  was  born ;  when  he  was  seven  or 
eight  years  old  he  fell  from  a  car  and  was 
hurt  back  of  his  head,  it  was  bleeding; 
last  summer  his  pillows  where  he  had  slept 
over  night  were  stained  a  kind  of  brownish 
yellow;  seen  them  three  different  times; 
used  to  hear  him  scream  in  his  sleep;  in 
1862  he  laid  for  two  days  with  a  sort  of 
headache,  and  then  had  convulsions,  froth¬ 
ing  at  the  mouth ;  had  been  fishing  and 
thought  it  might  be  the  sun ;  the  day  before 
the  Southern  tournament  in  Saratoga,  in 
August,  he  was  sick  again  and  I  found  him 
in  convulsions;  I  bathed  him  with  warm 
water;  don’t  know  if  it  was  the  effect  of 
the  sun. 

Thomas  TT.  Todd  said — I  reside  at  Syra¬ 
cuse;  I  knew  the  prisoner  in  1870;  he  was 
playing  a  game  at  ball ;  Frank  became  in¬ 
sensible  for  half  an  hour,  but  no  one  else 
did ;  the  next  day  he  was  languid ;  he  hurt 
his  nose  and  his  forehead. 


John  L.  Barbour  said  he  had  known  5 
field  Tracy  Walworth;  in  1861  or  1862b 
him  put  on  a  Confederate  uniform,  an< , 
said  that  he  held  a  commission  in  the  i 
federate  army;  this  was  at  the  time  t 
worth  was  in  Washington;  I  told  the  > 
retary  of  State,  and  on  subsequent  inc  y 
I  found  that  the  story  was  not  true;  1 1  k 
he  said  he  was  a  captain  in  the  army  J 
told  me  at  the  time  he  was  in  the  emplc  >f 
Colonel  Stuart ;  I  know  Frank  Walwort  I 
have  observed  that  he  has  appeared  j 
moody  and  occupied;  I  have  frequently!! 
him  on  the  sidewalk  and  he  has  never  is 
ticed  me ;  I  have  noticed  that  his  face  fe 
peculiarly  pale  and  there  were  twitch  51 
of  his  face. 

Dr.  Charles  S.  Grant  testified— -I  resit  it 
Saratoga  Springs ;  am  a  physician  and  x 
geon;  had  known  the  prisoner  for  se'al 
years,  and  his  character  generally  as 
good. 

By  ex-Judge  Garvin — During  the  jn 
you  have  known  Frank  Walworth  have  a 
noticed  any  change  in  him? 

Witness — I  noticed  a  decided  chan;  in 
him  six  or  seven  months  ago;  he  cam  to 
my  office  in  the  afternoon ;  he  was  in  tu 
habit  of  coming  there  once  or  twice  a 
to  play  billiards ;  I  asked  him  to  go  p 
stairs ;  we  went  up  and  he  sat  by  the  n 
dow;  he  looked  out  and  looked  up;  I  id 
to  him,  “Have  you  tired  yourself  oi9( 
quickly?”  he  made  no  reply;  I  took  oflnj 
coat  and  took  up  my  cue;  Jje  went  tohl 
table  and  put  the  white  balls  where  e! 
balls  should  go;  just  before  striking  hi 
red  balls  he  noticed  his  mistake  and  « 
that  was  not  the  way  to  begin  a  game  hi 
then  placed  his  balls  properly  and  pie! 
half  an  hour  or  so;  I  noticed  that  lie  hi  I 
peculiar  appearance  for  a  day  or  two  as* 
wards;  the  second  time  I  noticed  any  jMf 
liarity  was  when  he  called  one  evening n! 
we  played;  I  said  to  him  it  was  his  tui1< 
play ;  he  made  no  remark,  and  I  said  tcia 
again,  “Frank,  it  is  your  turn  to  play :lw 
spoke  in  a  sharp  unnatural  voice  and  «, 
“He  was  ready;”  he  sprang  up  froirui 
seat  and  struck  the  balls  with  great  f<»| 
the  stroke  counted,  but  instead  of  plaoj 


THE  WALWOliTII  PARRICIDE. 


63 


ja  again  he  struck  one  of  the  red  balls 
r  that  it  dropped  on  the  floor,  and 
smstantly  he  dropped  into  the  chair; 
'at twitched  violently;  he  was  breath- 
c'  heavily  and  he  was  snoring;  I  sat 
i; side  and  said,  “Frank,  what  ails 
>  e  made  no  reply,  but  made  an  effort 
,e  his  eyes;  I  think  he  raised  liis  head 
re;ated  my  question  in  a  listless  voice ; 
t|;ee  or  four  seconds  he  put  on  his 
;  asked  him  where  he  was  going;  lie 
bjsras  going  home ;  he  also  said  it  was 
si  o’clock  and  he  promised  to  be  home 
x;  asked  him  if  he  would  not  stay 
ii.li  the  game;  he  said,  “No,  he  had 
1  me  at  six  o’clock ;”  at  the  same  time 
ietn  to  take  off  his  coat;  this  was 
it  re  or  six  o'clock;  I  did  not  notice 
(levied  symptoms  of  change  until  five 
X  jseks  ago ;  lie  got  into  a  carriage  to 
wh  me;  we  were  talking  about  ty- 
1  ver ;  after  several  minutes  had  passed 
iiellid  not  make  any  remark,  I  looked 
.uvnd  saw  he  was  staring  right  ahead, 
1)  face  was  livid;  I  said  to  him, 
ran.,  arc  you  sick?”  lie  did  not  say  any- 
g  I  t  continued  to  stare ;  I  then  put 
n  on  his  shoulder  and  said,  “Frank, 
nisick?”  he  did  not  say  anything,  but 
imd  to  stare;  he  then  gave  me  a  wild 
id  said,  “How  far  is  it  to  the 
ngS’  I  then  said  to  him,  “Frank,  what 
vc  complain  of?”  lie  then  repeated, 
n  iid  again,  the  word  “fruit,”  “fruit;” 
in  was  very  rigid  and  his  muscle  re- 
1 ;  e  said,  “Did  you  think  I  was  going 
ui  ’  I  said,  “You  acted  so  strangely  I 
hoi  enow  what  to  think  of  it ;”  I  asked 
nit  he  meant  when  he  was  going  to 
vc|3;  he  put  his  hand  up  to  his  head 
sai  he  could  not  conceive  any  reason 
hc  liould  strike  me. 

■  \  11  you  please  state  in  a  general  way 
ttlse  things  indicate?  A.  To  my  mind 
’  in  cate  epilepsy. 

!•  I  w  does  the  condition  called  cpil- 
y  fiect  the  mind?  A.  It  produces  un- 
icic  mess  and  mental  irresponsibility, 
hat  is  called  epileptic  mania?  A. 


:ler  the  influence  of  epileptic  mania 


is  there  consciousness  or  will?  A.  Not 
when  fully  under  the  influence  of  the 
mania. 

To  District  Attorney  Phelps — Have  had 
between  thirty  and  forty  cases  of  epilepsy 
under  my  charge.  Was  stationed  in  the 
Albany  Insane  Asylum  at  one  time,  and  had 
many  cases  there. 

The  court  then  adjourned. 

After  the  opening  of  the  Court  on  Tues¬ 
day  morning,  the  first  witness  called  was 

Dr.  John  B.  Gray ,  who  testified — I  have 
resided  at  Utica  since  1850;  have  been  a 
physician  for  twenty-five  years,  connected 
with  the  New  York  State  Lunatic  Asylum ; 
am  familiar  with  the  epileptic  condition ;  it 
is  a  disease  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord, 
manifested  by  periods  of  unconsciousness 
and  spasms ;  its  causes  are  various,  constitu¬ 
tional  or  hereditary,  falls  and  blows,  a 
shock,  mental  or  physical,  long  continued 
distress,  and  generally  tilings  calculated  to 
disturb  the  circulation. 

Q.  To  come  down  to  our  case,  “Is  epil¬ 
epsy  always  accompanied  by  spasms?”  A. 
Yes,  but  not  such  as  are  evJflent;  a  spasm 
may  occur  perceptible  to  a  person  having 
his  hand  on  the  patient  so  that  he  perceives 
the  tremor,  wdiile  to  anyone  else  it  would 
be  imperceptible;  a  condition  of  rigidity, 
often  preceded  by  a  cry,  is  the  first  symp¬ 
tom  ;  there  is  pallor,  followed  by  redness  of 
the  face,  a  swelling  of  the.,  chest,  and  after 
that  the  patient  usually  falls  into  a  sleep ; 
that  is  rather  the  spinal  form  ;  an  apparent¬ 
ly  milder  form  involves  the  brain,  and  the 
symptom  is  only  a  slight  shiver;  either 
form,  with  more  or  less  speed,  impairs  the 
whole  mental  power;  the  progress  of  the 
disease  is  manifested  sometimes  by  a  lassi¬ 
tude  of  mind;  sometimes  by  irascibility ;  its 
most  marked  symptom  is  a  change  in  some 
direction;  sometimes  it  manifests  itself  by 
sudden  maniacal  raving,  more  than  attends 
other  forms  of  insanity ;  sometimes  by  mere 
bewilderment  and  hesitation,  the  mind  be¬ 
comes  impaired  and  the  will  with  it ;  the 
will  is  practically  in  subjection. 

Q.  Take  the  case  of  a  man  who  screams 
out  in  his  sleep,  and  a  little  while  after  is 
found  snoring,  and  at  times  froths  at  the 


64 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


mouth,  -what  -would  you  say  of  it?  A.  I 
would  say  that  it  indicated  an  epileptic 
seizure;  other  symptoms  that  may  occur 
are  spots  on  the  face  or  the  surface,  indicat¬ 
ing  extravasation  of  blood;  the  dangerous 
period  is  not  during  the  rigidity,  but  before 
or  after;  the  effect  of  waking  up  a  person 
subject  to  C2iilcpsy  two  or  three  hours  be¬ 
fore  his  usual  hour  would  be  likely  to  bring 
on  a  fit ;  in  fact,  nocturnal  epilepsy  is  apt  to 
come  on  a  little  while  before  the  waking 
hour;  epileptic  diseases  might  well  exist 
without  friends  recognizing  them. 

The  witness  here  gave  details  of  general 
cases,  and  then  said,  in  answer  to  questions 
by  Hr.  Phelps: 

The  leading  symptoms  in  this  case  denot¬ 
ing  mental  impairment  arc  the  facts  of  Ills 
failure  as  a  law  student  and  his  forgetful¬ 
ness  of  German  phrases  which  he  had  before 
familiarly  used ;  the  physical  symptoms  are 
inconsistent  with  hysteria;  I  did  not  say 
that  the  shooting  of  the  father  occurred  dur¬ 
ing  an  epileptic  attack;  I  said  that  he  was 
liable  at  any  moment  to  such  an  attack; 
epileptic  attacks  are,  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
unpremeditated  and  causeless;  in  seme 
cases,  where  epilepsy  seizures  occur  but 
once  or  twice  in  a  lifetime,  especially  after 
maturity,  there  is  no  notable  change  in  the 
general  mental  condition,  but  as  a  rule  there 
is  a  change;  where  the  attacks  are  at  inter¬ 
vals  the  patient  is  usually  capable,  in  the 
intervals,  of  carrying  on  his  ordinary  busi¬ 
ness,  but  there  is  ordinarily  gradual  deteri¬ 
oration,  ending  in  dementia;  in  some  cases 
there  arc  no  symptoms  preceding  an  epilep¬ 
tic  seizure,  but  sometimes  tluyc  is  head¬ 
ache,  restlcssnes  or  constipation,  and  in 
rare  instances  a  precedent  maniacal  out¬ 
break  ;  in  cases  of  petit  mrtl ,  the  apparently 
milder  form,  which  is  very  brief,  passing 
off  in  a  few  seconds,  there  is  often  drowsi¬ 
ness,  bewilderment  or  wildness;  they  do 
not  remember  what  occurs  during  the 
seizure,  but  sometimes  have  an  indistinct 
memory  of  what  occurred  during  the  later 
epileptic  stage ;  I  have  known  cases  where 
the  memory  of  a  number  of  days  was  cut 
out,  though  I  have  supposed  they  were, 
during  that  period,  cognizant  of  their  acts. 


Mr.  Phelps  here  detailed  the  sta  u 
of  the  prisoner  after  the  shooting,  a:  | 
affair,  and  asked  whether  the  recol  |j 
of  the  events  by  the  prisoner  would  ffi 
the  doctor’s  judgment  as  to  the  pi  « 
epileptic  condition.  The  doctor  at 
that  the  recollection  of  the  events  wo  j 
alter  the  doctor’s  opinion  as*to  the  4 
er's  epileptic  condition,  but  addelj 
there  was  hardly  sufficient  data  fr  1 
statements  as  given  to  decide  wheri 
had  that  morning  an  epileptic  scizur  1 
To  a  Juror — These  attacks  cover  a  ni 
of  time,  though  within  the  period  ciij 
of  the  attack  minor  attacks  may  occt  1 
To  the  Court — The  disease  is  not  ict 
periodical:  it  is  rarely  curable;  iniai 
simple  convulsive  epilepsy  the  physic  ct 
dition  sometimes  is  perfect. 

To  Mr.  Phelps — I  have  known  -am 
with  epilepsy  who  still  conducte’ril 
ability  the  ordinary  business  of  life  .'si 
and  Mahomet  are  said  to  have  beeniOi] 
tics,  and  Napoleon,  Alexander  am 3(1 
other  distinguished  men  are  said  hi 
had  epileptic  attacks;  the  rule  is,  hew 
that  mental  degradation  sets  injil.fj 
cerebral  epilepsy,  or  petit  mal,  wliic!  CO 
sider  the  most  liable  to  become  im alffa 
there  is  a  certain  periodicity  inthecj 
rence  of  the  attack,  but  an  excilimia^ 
may  bring  it  on  at  any  time;  as  a  r, th 
epileptic  rage  is  directed  to  all  alikbuti 
have  known  cases  where  it  was  dined! 
a  particular  individual. 

Dr.  Gray  was  examined  by  Mr.  era 
and  testified  further — I  spoke  ofaittil 
lasting  two  or  three  days ;  the  lit  net| 
would  only  last  a  very  brief  time,  ih® 
epileptic  condition  might  remain  son® 
time,  during  which  he  would  seqm  b|| 
a  rational  condition,  yet  really  his  nu  V 
wholly  under  the  epileptic  influenjl 
may  do  certain  things  in  an  appartlj^j 
tional  manner,  yet  the  epileptic  co  itwt 
with  its  violent  tendencies,  contins;  or¬ 
dinarily  the  fit  is  terminated  by  a  Mffl 
normal  sleep ;  some  of  the  books  st 
eptic  attacks  which  were  accomprcd 
distinct  memory  of  what  occurred  ilk® 
in  my  own  practice  I  have  found  soJ  ^ 


mcj  UALVYUnin  X  AlV.nXVlX'JCj. 


1  ^member,  but  could  not  determine 
lr  they  spoke  from  memory  or  from 
n  rmation  ©f  others, 
helefence  here  closed, 
hcrosecution  called,,  in  rebuttal, 

•(■•is  S.  Street ,  of  the  New  York  Weekly , 

1 1  tided  that  deceased  -was  well  known 
n for  a  year;  he  was  writing  for  that 
r  he  was  very  affable,  agreeable,  cour- 
',3 rid  cheerful;  he  was  very  quiet  and 
Icjianly ;  I  never  saw  any  violence  or 
c  at  city ;  I  knew  he  had  a  family;  he 
r  luded  to  it  but  on  one  occasion;  I 
vc  him  an  article  in  the  Tribune  com- 
efing  his  wife's  readings  at  Saratoga: 
uipd  and  was  pleased,  and  asked  me 
ivhim  the  article  ;  I  never  saw  on  him 
sir  of  liquor;  I  never  heard  him  use 
,.U|  oaths. 

i  t.  O’Gonor — I  saw  him  in  all  at  our 
c  rom  twelve  to  twenty  times;  he 
» ;  our  paper  to  offer  his  productions ; 
a  him  for  one  serial  during  the  year 
)0i  we  were  arranging  with  him  for  a 
n,  he  was  to  come  down  on  that 
>sc|)r  to  arrange  terms ;  he  was  always 
tbtnd  properly  dressed;  he  looked  like 
uegentleman,  and  not  a  hungry  author ; 
ib  died  some  placards  containing  this — 
et 'racy Walworth  speak  for  himself;” 
v  tre  pasted  up  so  that  peojile  could 
Item;  I  believe  we  published  an  edi- 
al  enying  the  truth  of  the  stories  against 


roh\  Lary ,  a  restaurant  keeper,  testified 
t  fr.  Walworth  for  two  or  three  years 
hi  meals  there;  he  spoke  with  pride  of 
faier ;  lie  never  swore;  he  never  drank 
c;:e  at  witness’  liar;  he  was  always 
tlianly;  he  was  generally  cheerful; 
lie1,  heard  from  another  party  that  he 
r  married  man ;  witness  never  saw  him 
w  pistol  or  be  engaged  in  a  quarrel ;  he 
ei  ly  took  three  meals  a  day  at  witness’ 
aunt. 

Ie;y  Ackerman,  a  barber,  testified  that  he 
.  down  Mr.  Walworth  four  years  ;  he 
!  ommonly  shaved  by  witness,  and 
unfitness  became  sick  he  came  and  in- 
rt  for  him  and  brought  him  grapes  and 
its  he  was  a  gentleman  from  the  top  to 


the  foot ;  he  never  got  angry ;  witness  taught 
him  German ;  he  never  was  profane ;  he  be¬ 
longed  to  their  singing  society,  and  was  a 
pretty  regular  attendant ;  I  saw  he  had  some 
kind  of  feeling  in  his  heart,  but  I  was 
ashamed  to  ask  him ;  I  never  saw  him  have 
any  drink  except  maybe  a  glass  of  lager 
beer,  as  any  gentleman  might ;  I  never  saw 
him  intoxicated ;  I  never  saw  him  have  a 
pistol ;  our  society  was  the  New  York 
M tenner ch or ;  I  saw  him  last  at  eleven 
o'clock  on  Monday  night,  before  he  was 
shot. 

Hetman  Bettgeman ,  grocer,  testified,  that 
the  deceased  visited  his  store  once  or  twice 
a  wreek  for  the  last  two  years;  his  demeanor 
was  not  cheerful,  but  quiet,  not  violent;  he 
never  heard  him  utter  violent  oaths;  never 
saw  anything  odd  about  him. 

To  Mr.  O’Conor — He  came  to  me  for 
groceries,  butter,  cheese,  eggs,  cigars  and 
sometimes  a  bottle  or  two  of  wine ;  once  or 
twice  a  bottle  of  brandy ;  sometimes  he  took 
them  away,  sometimes  we  sent  them ;  I  sup¬ 
pose  lie  bought  other  groceries ;  he  kept  a 
monthly  account,  which  he  paid  promptly 
at  the  end  of  the  month  ;  it  ran  from  $8  to 
$17  a  month ;  when  his  family  lived  there  it 
ran  from  $70  to  $90. 

Theodore  Earner ,  Superintendent  of  Sta¬ 
tion  II,  of  the  Post  Office,  testified  that  he 
knew  Mr.  Walworth,  and  his  manner  was 
always  that  of  a  high-bred  gentleman ;  he 
■was  cheerful  and  inclined  to  talk ;  the  only 
one  of  his  family  he  ever  mentioned  was  his 
father. 

The  District  Attorney  offered  in  evidence 
Mr.  Walworth’s  book,  “Beverly.” 

Mr.  Beach  objected  to  it  as  incompetent, 

Mr.  Phelps  said  he  offered  it  to  show  the 
sanity  of  the  deceased. 

Mr.  O’Conor  said  the  substance  of  these 
letters  was  contained  in  this  book. 

Mr.  Justice  Davis — Yes,  he  had  followed 
these  letters  substantially  in  the  book,  ex¬ 
cept  the  blasphemy  and  obscenity. 

The  book  was  excluded. 

Dr.  Ralph  L.  Parsons,  physician  for  many 
years  in  the  New  York  City  Lunatic  Asy¬ 
lum,  testified: — Epilepsy  is  characterized  by 
loss  of  consciousness ;  it  is  usually  a  con- 


66 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


vulaive  affection,  and  is  sometimes  connect¬ 
ed  with  a  change  of  mental  condition;  it 
frequently  exists  without  such  mental  dis¬ 
turbance  as  to  amount  to  insanity ;  I  am  in¬ 
clined  to  think  it  is  almost  always  accom¬ 
panied  with  a  certain  degree  of  irritability ; 
the  paroxysms  have  a  sort  of  periodicity, 
varying  within  certain  limits  for  each  indi¬ 
vidual  and  varying  with  each  individual; 
there  is  a  portion  of  the  eyuleptic  attack  of 
which  the  patient  is  wholly  unconscious, 
but  there  is  a  condition  of  epileptic  mania 
of  which  frequently  the  patient  has  some 
memory. 

Mr.  Phelps  here  presented  a  hypothetical 
•question,  stating  the  facts  of  the  separation 
■of  the  prisoner's  father  and  mother,  his  care 
of  his  mother,  his  receipit  of  his  father’s 
letters,  the  last  letter  received,  the  offer  to 
go  to  Europe,  the  prisoner's  letter  to  his 
uncle  announcing  his  intention  to  see  his 
father,  tho  arrangements  of  Sunday,  the 
■visit  to  New  York  and  the  circumstances 
connected  with  it ;  the  occurrences  on  Tucs- 
'•  day  morning  as  detailed  by  the  evidence, 
including  the  prisoner's  subsequent  acts, 
and  asked — From  them  what  is  your  opinion 
as  to  the  condition  of  the  prisoner’s  mind  and 
whether  he  was  conscious  of  the  character 
of  the  act  he  was  doing?  A.  I  see  no  rea¬ 
son  from  the  whole  question  as  put  to  in¬ 
duce  me  to  believe  that  he  was  laboring 
under  an.attack  of  epileptic  mania;  knowl¬ 
edge  that  he  had  previously  shown  epileptic 
symptoms  would  not  change  my  view ;  I 
’should  require  further  evidence  of  the  char¬ 
acter  of  the  act  itself. 

To  Mr.  Beach — If  I  knew  that  the  man 
was  epileptic  I  should  be  more  careful  to 
inquire  into  the  evidences  of  aberration  of 
mind  at  the  time;  from  the  evidence  as 
oiven  I  should  not  conclude  that  the  act 

O 

was  epileptic  or  one  of  epileptic  mania; 
assuming  that  he  had  an  attack  of  epilepsy 
on  Sunday,  he  might  have  renewed  attacks 
on  Monday  and  Tuesday;  I  have  seen  cases 
of  epilepsy  where  I  saw  no  evidence  of  ex¬ 
citement  or  irritability ;  I  believe  no  case 
occurs  without  some  effect  on  the  mind 
after  the  paroxysm  has  passed ;  strong  con¬ 
tinued  emotion  may  produce  epilepsy  where 


there  is  some  predisposition,  not  ot)  w 
I  cannot  tell  in  what  that  predispos  ic 
sists,  but  a  hereditary  tendency  of  i  c 
firms  us  in  our  view  of  predispos  on 
give  a  considerable  degree  of  signifh  nj 
the  prisoner’s  statement,  as  evincing  ®( 
ory  of  the  transaction;  his  stateinen  f  i 
shooting  showed  he  was  conscious  if  i 
shooting. 

Dr.  Abner  Otis  Kellogg  was  next  al 
and  testified — I  am  at  present  coud 
with  the  Hudson  River  State  Lunat  H 
pital  at  Poughkeepsie,  but  before  t  ;i 
at  tire  State  Lunatic  Asylum  at  lo» 
heard  the  question  put  to  Dr.  Parson*  tb 
is  no  evidence  in  it  to  convince  me  .at 
the  immediate  time  of  the  homicide :  \ 
in  an  epileptic  condition ;  epileptics  it 
conscious  or  unconscious ;  there  is  a  en 
deterioration  generally  going  on  grua 
and  leading  ultimately  to  entire  faire 
mind. 

Dr.  Meredith  Clymer  defined  cpilepj 
nervous  disorder  characterized  by  ts 
consciousness  and  convulsive  movemts 
the  muscles;  there  were  three  varietimf 
which  he  described  at  some  lengtlv 
their  symptoms ;  irritability  of  temp  e< 
rnonlv  preceded  or  succeeded  the  fitf—j 
verseness,  a  tendency  to  explosive  a  ;ei 
change  of  temper;  one  or  more  of  th 3 s 
common ;  a  person  might  be  subject  >  < 
leptic  attacks  without  being  subject  \  < 
leptic  mania  or  insanity;  epileptic  nai; 
simply  mania  arising  in  an  cpilept  ; 
mav  have  his  mind  disordered  with  t 
in"  maniacal. 

O 

Dr.  Clymer  further  said  that  he  sa  nc 
ing  in  the  hypothetical  question  of  hi 
trict  Attorney  that  would  make  hin th 
the  accused  was  or  was  not  cpileptiat 
time  of  the  shooting;  he  had  no  datto 
by;  there  was  nothing  in  the  evident 
would  induce  him  to  believe  that  lie  a: 
an  epileptic  condition  at  the  time ;  hiki 
of  cases  when  the  patient's  memo  ' 
clear  as  to  the  circumstances  of  his  uac 

This  concluded  all  the  evidence  1 
case,  and  Mr.  O'Conor  commenced  s 
dress  to  the  jury  for  the  defence,  it 
conclusion  of  his  eloquent  appeal^1 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


.s  autioned  the  jury  not  to  speak  of 
utter  among  themselves.  He  was  in 
-ts  to  whether  he  should  allow  them 
pate;  hut  counsel  on  both  sides  had 
dice  in  their  integrity,  and  would  al¬ 
ia  now  to  separate.  He  hoped  they 
idaot  read  the  papers,  and  said  the 
Id  departed  from  the  plain  dictates 
iinon  decency  in  commenting  on  this 

ie  ourt  then  adjourned, 
t  opening  of  the  Court,  on  "VYednes- 
nning,  the  prisoner  took  his  place 
ljnied,  as  usual,  by  his  mother  and 
v ,  and  District  Attorney  Phelps  com- 
eedhis  summing  up  for  the  common- 
h  All  listened  with  the  deepest  at- 
no  the  speech  of  Mr.  Phelps,  the 
■r  clear  brows  sometimes  knitting 
iu  with  anxiety  at  his  denunciation 
•  >n  and  his  argument  to  show  pre- 
tann.  The  prisoner  sat  all  through 
:pe!li  with  his  head  bent  earnestly  for- 
,s  eyes  steadily  turned  on  the 
ei  nd  his  lips  slightly  apart.  At  the 
cAttorney’s  description  of  the  scene 
om  of  the  Sturtevant  House  he 
i  quiringly  towards  the  jurors,  a3  if 
it  by  his  appealing  look  the  mercy 
i  e  District  Attorney  was  -warning 
j  adnst.  At  tlie  conclusion  of  Mr. 
ps’  ldress,  Mr.  O’Conor  requested  the 
tcharge  as  follows: 
it  ider  the  evidence  the  prisoner  ean- 
-  und  guilty  unless  there  was  in  his 
i  aleliberate  and  premeditated  pur- 
i  11,  not  a  mere  intent, 
t  e  law  requires  a  deliberate  deter- 
1  :o  to  kill  in  cold  blood,  and  not  a 
■  u<  en  passion. 

t  e  facts  do  not  show  a  deliberation 
nt  n. 

't :  the  prisoner  knew  deceased  to  be 
)ei;e  man  it  militated  against  the 
o  murder  in  the  first  degree, 
it  i  lie  acted  under  terror  he  was  not 
oiaurder  in  the  second  degree. 

■d  i  the  jury  were  not  satisfied  that 
eatoccurred  by  a  shot,  of  which  the 
aer  as  conscious,  that  they  could  not 
ict  1  n  of  murder. 


i! 


6T 

That  if  they  found  he  was  unconscious  of 
any  one  shot  there  was  no  discriminating 
evidence  to  show  which  shot  was  the  fatal 
one,  and  they  must  acquit. 

That  if  at  the  time  he  was  in  a  state  of  I 
insanity,  produced  by  epilepsy  or  mania  or 
any  other  cause,  he  was  not  responsible. 

That  if  at  the  time  of  the  shooting  he  was 
in  a  state  of  overwhelming  terror,  in  which 
neither  he  nor  any  other  person  could  have 
exercised  choice  or  will,  then  he  must  be 
acquitted. 

The  Court  then  ordered  a  recess  of  thirty- 
five  minutes,  after  which  the  Judge,  at 
about  half  past  one  o'clock,  commenced 
his  charge  to  the  jury,  concluding  it  at 
about  half  past  four  o’clock. 

Judge  Davis  commenced  his  charge  bT 
describing  the  character  of  the  indictment 
against  the  prisoner,  which  he  said  was  for 
a  crime  long  defined  by  statute,  but  on  the 
29th  of  May  the  Legislature  passed  a  law- 
altering  in  material  aspects  the  definition  of 
the  crime.  This  was  the  first  trial  under 
the  new  law,  and  the  Court  had  been  called  •; 
onto  construe  it.  Prior  to  it  it  was  well  i 
settled  that  -where  there  was  a  killing  with 
a  well-defined  intent  to  kill,  thougli  that 
intent  arose  at  the  instant  of  the  act,  the 
language  of  the  old  statute  was: — “Such 
killing  *  *  *  shall  be  murder  in  the 

first  degree  *  *  *  when  perpetrated 

from  a  premeditated  design  to  effect  the 
death  of  the  person  killed,  or  of  any  human 
being.”  The  new  statute,  materially  differ¬ 
ent,  reads,  ‘  ‘  when  perpetrated  from  a  de¬ 
liberate  and  premeditated  design,”  &c. 
The  elementary  books  speak  of  intentional 
murder  as  deliberate  murder  and  presumed 
from  malice,  deliberation  and  intention. 
But  he  thought  the  intention  of  the  Legis¬ 
lature  was  not  to  go  back  to  that  view-,  but 
might  be  elucidated  by  the  other  provisions 
of  the  statute.  It  transferred  what  was  be¬ 
fore  murder  in  the  second  degree  into  mur- 
• 

der  in  the  first  degree,  and  created  a  new  j; 
second  degree  of  murder  in  the  second  de-  * 
gree,  and  the  draughtsman  seemed  to  have 
desired  to  intensify  it  in  the  separation  of 
murder  in  the  first  degree.  It  is  defined  to 
be  “when  perpetrated  intentionally,  but 


68 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


■without  deliberation  or  premeditation.” 
Deliberation  and  premeditation  were  mat¬ 
ters  of  fact  to  be  decided  by  a  jury  and  not 
|  by  the  Court;  but  in  deciding  on  these 
facts  the  jury  must  use  their  knowledge  of 
human  nature  in  its  varied  aspects.  In  this 
case  the  people  claimed  that  the  state  of 
facts  complv.ng  with  this  statute  existed. 


lie  should  briefly  review  the  facts  alleged 


on  either  side. 

It  was  claimed  that  motive,  the  impulsion 
to  crime,  was  shown  in  this  case,  in  that 
the  father’s  violent  and  bad  conduct  to¬ 
wards  the  prisoner  and  all  his  family  was 
so  bad  as  to  lead  to  the  contemplation  of  a 
crime  like  this.  If  the  jury  could  sec  that 
such  a  state  of  circumstances  existed  as  that 
the  idea  of  relieving  himself  by  an  act  of 
crime  was  presented,  the  jury  may  find 
there  was  a  motive.  Tire  prosecution  claim¬ 
ed  that  through  the  bad  conduct  of  the  de¬ 
ceased,  his  persistent  threats  and  letters,  a 
state  of  mind  arose  in  the  prisoner  looking 
to  the  relieving  of  himself  by  the  death  of 
the  deceased,  if  no  other  means  could  be 
found.  Such  circumstances  have  a  double 
aspect,  and  the  people  claimed  that  because 
this  man  had  abandoned  his  claims  as  a 
father,  and  had  heaped  this  violence  and 
abuse  on  his  wife  and  the  prisoner,  the  jury 
might  fairly  infer  a  motive.  They  went 
further  than  that,  and  showed  that  subse¬ 
quent  to  the  offer  of  a  visit  to  Europe  he  re¬ 
ceived  the  last  letter  from  his  father;  that 
this  letter  presented  an  obstacle  to  his  visit 
to  Europe,  and  that  he  thereupon  meditated 
some  means  to  relieve  himself  and  his  moth¬ 
er  from  the  monstrous  attacks  of  his  father. 
On  Sunday  it  appeared  he  wrote  to  his  uncle. 
This  letter  showed  that  he  had  accepted 
his  uncle's  offer,  but  then  goes  on  to  say  his 
mother's  position  is  not  safe,  as  it  is,  and 
announces  his  intention  to  visit  his  father. 
From  it  might  fairly  be  inferred  that  he 
had  accepted  the  invitation  and  this  letter 
had  come  as  an  obstacle ;  that  he  had  been 
thinking  over  means  to  remove  that  obsta¬ 
cle  and  had  resolved  to  sec  his  father  to  sec 
if  that  obstacle  might  not  in  some  way 
be  removed.  So  much  was  fairly  infer¬ 
able.  How,  the  people  claimed  that  he 


rose  next  morning  looking  vdry  pal  i, 
to  bis  friend,  borrowed  $15  anc  ?i 
Hew  York,  and  that  he  preparec  li 
by  taking  a  loaded  pistol.  The  il 
clearly  showed  that  lie  went  fi  t 
father's  house;  that  it  was  on  e 
gestion  of  the  boarding  house  1  p 
wrote  the  note  in  evidence. 

It  was  claimed  by  the  prosecutii  tli 
these  were  steps  in  a  deliberate  m 
either  to  shoot  his  father  or  obtciv 
factory  settlement  of  the  family  difi  lit 
obtaining  a  promise  not  to  annoy  h  to 
or  if  that  were  not  given  then  t  d( 
him.  It  was  claimed  that  this  v  a 
out  by  the  coolness  of  the  prisonc  n 
a  full  knowledge  of  the  nature  <  tl 
and  its  consequences  in  his  sen<  g 
policeman  and  his  statements  t  tin 
geant  at  the  station-house.  The  Igi 
read  the  testimony  of  the  sergeant! 
These  declarations,  coupled  wit  tin 
vious  steps,  were,  it  was  clainn  m 


which  shed  light  on  the  intent  i< 


prisoner  as  set  out  by  the  prqsdn 
pecially  when  coupled  with  the  gntj 
to  his  mother  and  family,  the  t  eat 
dangers  to  his  mother  and  hiielfj 
posed  by  him  to  exist. 

On  the  part  of  the  defence  it  asi 
that  the  sum  he  borrowed  was  tot  I 
equal  to  his  fare  both  ways  anone 
expenses;  that  he  expressed  to  is 
and  to  Mr.  Ainsdell,  and  in  a  css( 
his  mother,  his  expectation  of  rural 
Tuesday;  that  he  went  to  his  diet 
dence  direct  to  make  the  conti  p!i 
rangement  at  once  with  him  anrea 
same  night  to  Saratoga,  and  thill® 
ledge  of  the  consequences  of  th act  J 
killing  of  his  father  was  not  atill.j 
tent  with  such  deliberation.  iMj 
jury  to  decide  which  of  the  twepifl 
were  to  believe.  Heverthelcs.th® 
remember  that  it  was  upnaturabs^ 
such  a  purpose  as  the  prosecutn  <4 
nor  were  these  declarations  voUj 
sistent  with  the  alternative  pmosej 
by  the  prosecution,  and  of  wlitiflf 
hope  to  effect  the  milder  jilMB 
Nevertheless,  if  there  were  ar 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


69 


jim  the  question  the  prisoner  was  en- 
i'  o  it.  The  prosecution  were  bound 
l;  e  out  the  fact  of  deliberation  and 
n  [Ration  beyond  reasonable  doubt, 
i  hey  were  satisfied  either  of  the  posi- 
i  cnt  to  kill  or  of  the  alternative  reso- 
>1,0  kill  if  the  father  did  not  make  a 
sfitory  arrangement,  the  fact  was  made 
whin  the  definition  [of  murder  in  the 


h  brought  him  to  the  consideration  of 
■(]•  in  the  second  degree.  This,  under 
sjtute,  was  a  killing  with  intention, 
Uhout  deliberation  or  premeditation, 
ui  it  be  a  swift  intent,  formed  on  the 
r  :f  the  moment.  Formerly  this  was 
re;  in  the  first  degree.  It  required  no 
mlitation  at  Saratoga,  no  deliberate 
bout  to  kill  the  father,  but  merely  that 
da  they  met  something  sudden  occur, 
r  .  his  father’s  manner  of  action  roused 
aiiasty,  sudden,  instantaneous  determi- 
ic  to  kill.  Whatever  the  deceased's 
>e  ance  toward  the  world,  his  character, 
s>wn  by  the  evidence  before  them, 
a  l  his  wife  and  children  was  despicable 
ol  description.  According  to  the 
d.ce,  lie  said,  for  they  could  not  have 
(ceased  before  them  to  explain  the  let- 
3,  ;  they  were  capable  of  explanation, 
n  public  should  be  careful  to  remem- 
1  id  Judge  Davis,  what  they  are  very 
nto  forget,  and  it  is  what  the  general 
)1  are  very  apt  to  do,  that  in  the  eye  of 
w  all  men,  without  respect  to  their 
ic  ion  of  character,  bad  devices,  or  their 
r:  or  physical  nature,  are  under  the  pro- 
ti  l  of  the  law.  The  same  shield  that  is 
■r  lie  bad  is  over  you,  and  each  of  you ; 
n;  by  your  bedside  at  night  and  in  all 
ulomestic  relations ;  in  those,  too,  who 
-  ]  rest  in  their  lives.  The  genius  of  the 
v  otects  every  person,  however  humble 
nybe.  It  is  a  wild  and  foolish  notion 
itiji  man  may  be  called  to  have  his 
n  laid  open  to  show  up  his  character 
d  is  pursuits  in  life,  for  the  purpose  of 
ia  .ig  a  public  sentiment  that  he  was  so 
d  man  that  he  ought  to  die.  I  nay  that 
is  did  notion  of  justice  has  no  approval 
f  administration  of  either  truth  or  law. 


It  is  proper  and  just  for  you  to  discard  from 
the  consideration  of  this  case  the  notion 
that  Walworth  was  not  fit  to  live.  The 
Judge  who  is  to  determine  this  does  not  sit 
in  this  Court  nor  in  this  jury  box.  He  de¬ 
termines  this  question  by  that  which  you 
and  I  do  not  possess — an  infinite  knowledge 
and  an  omniscience  that  reads  every  soul 
and  finds  truth  wherever  it  is.  The  law 
upon  this  subject  has  been  well  expressed 
by  Chief  Justice  Davies.  (This  opinion  was 
read  by  the  judge.) 

The  evidence  in  the  case  for  the  defence 
might  be  specified  as  of  a  twofold  character. 
First — That  the  prisoner  at  the  time  of  the 
alleged  crime  was  outside  of  the  law,  be¬ 
cause  he  was  insane.  Second — That  the 
act  of  shooting  his  father  was  prompted  by- 
self-defence.  That,  with  the  exception  of 
the  one  just  alluded  to,  as  to  the  character 
of  the  father,  which  was  no  law,  covered 
the  points  of  the  defence.  Taking  the 
second  first:— As  to  self-defence,  its  right  is 
a  natural  one  and  recognized  by  law  within 
certain  limits.  This  was  claimed  to  be  justi¬ 
fiable  homicide  under  our  statute.  The 
statute  recognizes  excusable  or  justifiable 
homicide,  four  grades  of  manslaughter  and 
two  of  murder.  It  does  not  recognize  dis¬ 
tinctly  parricide  or  matricide.  The  crime 
is  one  likely  to  produce  horror,  but  the  law 
only  recognizes  it  as  homicide.  The  Judge 
then  defined  justifiable  homicide,  and  said 
that  threats  against  an  absent  person  do  not 
justify  such  homicide.  The  only  ground  on 
which  the  threat  against  his  mother  could 
have  any  weight  was  as  they  gave  point  to 
his  fear ;  for  himself.  TTo  quoted  the  People 
vs.  Shorter  as  laying  down  the  true  rule 
that  the  appearances  must  be  of  immediate 
attack,  intended  and  imminent  danger.  It 
was  forThe  jury  to  determine  whether  these 
facts  existed.  If  they  did  the  party  was  en¬ 
titled  to  a  verdict  of  acquittal.  In  this  case 
they  had  really  nothing  as  to  the  real  trans¬ 
action  at  the  time  of  its  occurrence  but  the 
statement  of  the  prisoner  read  before  the 
Coroner.  That  was  this “I  am  guilty  of 
no  crime.  My  father  treated  my  mother 
very  cruelly,  incensed  against  his  father. 
*  *  *  He  wrote  among  other  things,  ‘  Z. 


70 


THE  WALWORTH  TARRICIDE. 


will  defeat  the  damned  scoundrel  in  his 
grave.’  He  had  just  before  put  his  hand  up 


to  his  breast  as  if  to  draw  a  pistol.  I  fired. 
*  *  *  lie  closed  rapidly  on  me,  and  had 

his  grasp  on  me  when  I  fired  the  last  shot.”' 
This  was  his  own  statement,  and  they  were 
to  presume  that  it  was  as  favorable  to  him¬ 
self  as  the  truth  would  permit.  (The  Court 
here  repeated  the  incidents  of  the  morning 
from  the  time  the  j  ..  i, was  waked  to 
the  time  that  deceased  entered.)  What  oc¬ 
curred  in  there  was  not  overheard.  It  was 
for  the  jury  to  fill  up  this  bare  skeleton. 
The  evidence  tended  to  show  that  no  pistol 
was  drawn.  Nothing  was  found  upon  the 
deceased  except  a  small  bunch  of  keys. 
There  was  then  no  real  danger,  and  nothing 
done  to  justify  the  drawing  of  a  pistol.  It 
was,  however,  for  the  jury  ^to  consider 
whether  the  father  did  anything  to  give  the 
prisoner  a  right  to  say  that  the  father  was 
about  to  draw  a  pistol  to  shoot.  The 
Judge  then  explained  at  length  that  the 
prisoner  invited  his  father  to  meet  him,  and 
that  that  very  much  modified  the  expecta¬ 
tion  of  danger.  The  jury  had  a  just  right 
to  inquire  whether  there  was  strong  and 
aatisfactory  evidence  that  the  prisoner  was 
placed  in  such  a  position  as  to  take  steps  to 
justify  death.  But  that  is  as  far  as  the  rule 


ought  to  go. 


intensified  by  their  coming  before  th  ] 
in  the  shape  of  an  avalanche.  T 
point  for  the  jury  to  consider  wa.i 
effect  these  threats  had  upon  the  1 « 
the  prisoner.  That  was  the  only  pi  t 
the  jury  to  consider. 

In  relation  to  the  degree  of  insamt  e 
it  must  be  satisfactorily  shown,  ac  x 
to  a  recent  decision  of  a  higher  Cou  I 
he  had  not  li.c  capacity  to  ur.dcrstaii 
lie  was  doing,  and  did  not  know  w  a 
did  it  whether  it  was  right  or  wrom  1 
Judge  amplified  on  this  point  and  tlilf 
eluded  by  a  recapitulation  of  th  n 
points  of  his  charge,  and  directed  t  j 
to  retire  to  their  room. 

When  the  charge  was  conclud  ■ 
O'Conor  presented  a  list  of  requ  s 
charge,  which  tire  Judge  had  passe  at 
and  requested  that  they  be  now  iia 
in  the  charge.  One  was  that  the  fee 
tion  must  prove  that  of  the  founi; 
shots  fired,  Walworth  was  killed 
first  one  fired,  and  not  by  the  otliclo 
which  might  have  been  fired  by  aclei 
but  this  the  judge  declined  to  do. 

The  jury  then  retired. 


The  letters  might  be  devided  into  two 
series — the  first  of  which  were  written  in 
1871,  and  they  were  addressed  to  the 
prisoner's  mother.  They  were  all  written 
in  the  month  of  July,  1871.  They  all  relate 
to  matters  relating  to  the  execution  of  cer¬ 
tain  legal  papers,  although  they  were  all 
vulgar,  dirty  things.  The  jury  was  to  con¬ 
sider  what  was  the  purpose  in  writing  them, 
and  also  the  motives  that  actuated  the  use 
of  threats.  It  was  right  to  say  fTiat  these 
threats  were  in  violation  of  the  law,  and 
that  the  deceased  could  have  been  arrested 
and  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace.  The 
matter  complained  of  in  the  letters  was  ul¬ 
timately  settled,  and  the  delay  in  settling 
was  occasioned  by  the  illness  of  the  priso¬ 
ner's  mother.  The  next  series  of  letters 
were  in  1872  and  contained  similar  threats. 
The  effect  of  these  letters  was  very  much 


XI. 


THE  VERDICT. 


The  jury  retired  to  their  room  aiibo 
thirty-five  minutes  past  four  o’clki 
Wednesday  afternoon,  July  2,  13, 
charge  of  two  officials  of  the  Cour  Tl 
Judge-,  lawyers,  and  officers  of  tlujM 
generally,  left  the  Court  house,  and  ifflj 
ous  speculations  were  indulged  in  f  tl 
spectators  of  the  trial  as  to  when  t  j«( 
would  return  and  what  the  verdictfofl 
be. 

At  about  a  quarter  past  eight  doc| 
Judge  Davis  came  into  Court.  IjtXl 
behind  him  came  the  Sheriff’s  office  hoj 
to  them  the  prisoner,  his  cheek  li#l 
blanched,  but  his  head  still  erect ;  ehio 
him  the  mother,  on  the  arm  of  tl 
Clarence  A.  Walworth,  and  followiifthl 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


i.  Hardin  and  liis  mother  and  the  re- 
i  r  relatives.  Little  Tracy,  the  young 

ii,  threaded  his  way  cheerily  among 
ter  humanity,  clambered  over  his 
k's  knee  and  took  his  seat  beside 

t  the  jurors  dropped  into  their  seats, 
,/sistant  District  Attorneys  Rollins 
]  on  appeared  in  their  places.  Mr. 
i  came  in  and  took  position  at  Iris 

I v  say  you,  gentlemen  of  the  jury?” 
I  r.  Sparks,  the  Clerk  of  the  Court, 
ailence  that  was  oppressive.  “Have 
taied  upon  a  verdict?” 

Vhave,”  replied  the  faint  voice  of  the 
ui 

most  intense  suppression  of  breath- 
,v;  noticeable  throughout  the  court 
].  The  prisoner's  face  blanched  and 
in  as  white  and  as  rigid  as  marble, 
noher  put  her  hand  to  her  breast  and 

1  er  head  intently  towards  the  jury, 

•  cer  her  face,  hope,  fear,  doubt  and 
si  chased  one  another  in  a  rush  of 
nsimotion. 

Ic  Lemon  of  the  jury,”  continued  Mr. 
.s,  ‘  stand  in  your  places.” 
e  jy  rose  up. 
rimer  stand  up.” 

eying  man  rose  instantly  as  erect  as  a 
al  turned  his  face  rigidly  towards 
wye  men  who  held  his  life  in  their 

"remen  of  the  jury  look  upon  the 
nei1  Prisoner  look  upon  the  jury, 
sajrou,  gentlemen  of  the  jury?  Do 
nclie  prisoner,  Frank  II.  Walworth, 
y  not  guilty  of  the  crime  charged 
ist  m?” 

mi  a — Guilty  in  the  second  degree. 
rk-Of  what — of  murder? 
nr  l— Yes. 

rk  How  say  you  then?  You  find  the 
mr  ailty  of  murder  in  the  second  de- 
mu  iot  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first 
e? » 

"  f<  :man  nodded  his  head. 

’°  £>  you,  all  of  you?” 
e  w  >le  twelve  nodded  their  heads. 

2  pi  oner  received  the  blow  without  a 


n 

change  of  countenance,  and  when,  at  a  nod 
from  the  Clerk,  the  jury  sat  down,  he,  too, 
resumed  his  seat  and  listlessly  loosened  his 
necktie.  His  mother  turned  toward  him 
one  look  of  affection,  and  as  his  wearied  eye 
caught  hers  she  turned  the  look  into  a  smile, 
to  which  the  prisoner  wearily  responded. 
The  rest  of  the  relatives  sat  around,  unde¬ 
cided  whether  the  verdict  was  a  triumph  or 
not,  and  little  Tracy,  the  novelty  of  these 
strange  proceedings  being  over,  rested  hig 
head  upon  his  brother’s  arm  and  gave  way 
to  sleep. 

Mr.  O’Conor,  after  a  short  consultation 
with  Mrs.  Walworth,  asked  that  the  sen¬ 
tence  be  deferred  until  counsel  could  file  a 
bill  of  exceptions.  Judge  Davis,  after  some 
discussion,  agreed  to  give  him  until  Satin'- 
day,  and  adjourned  the  Court  until  that 
day.  The  prisoner  was  then  taken  into  the 
anteroom,  and  soon  afterward  was  returned 
to  his  cell  in  the  Tombs. 


XII. 

TIIE  SENTENCE. 

Soon  after  the  assembling  of  the  Court, 
on  Saturday  morning,  July  5,  District  At¬ 
torney  Phelps  slowly  rose  in  his  seat  and 
addressed  the  Court  as  follows: 

“  The  trial  of  Frank  n.  Walworth  for  the 
murder  of  Mansfield  Tracy  Walworth  hag 
terminated  by  a  verdict  by  an  impartial  jury 
of'  murder  in  the  second  degree.  It  is  my 
duty,  and  I  now  move  that  the  Court  pass 
sentence  upon  the  prisoner  in  accordance 
with  the  verdict  pronounced  against  him.n 

“  Walworth,  arise,  ”  said  Sir.  Sparks,  the 
Clerk,  as  soon  as  the  District  Attorney  liacl 
taken  his  seat. 

Young  Walworth  did  as  bidden,  looking 
Mr.  Sparks  steadily  in  the  eye.  I 

“What  have  you  to  say,  ”  continued  Mr,  I 
Sparks,  “  why  judgment  of  the  Court  shouldj 
not  now  be  pronounced  against  you  accord¬ 
ing  to  law?” 

Walworth  brought  his  left  hand,  which 
had  been  hanging  by  his  side,  up  to  hifl 


73 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


face,  straightened  himself  back  and  moved 
slightly  from  his  position.  Not  a  word, 
however,  came  from  his  lips. 

Judge  Davis,  as  if  in  doubt  whether  the 
prisoner  intended  to  say  anything,  waited 
fully  half  a  minute,  and  then  proceeded  to 
pass  sentence.  At  times  his  voice  trem¬ 
bled,  and  once  or  twice  it  seemed  as  though 
his  voice  would  choke  in  the  depth  of  his 
emotion.  He  spoke  as  follows ; — 

“Walworth,  I  have  never  been  called 
upon  in  my  life  to  perform  a  more  painful 
duty  than  the  one  which  devolves  upon  me 
now.  After  the  trial  in  which  you  have 
had  the  benefit  of  counsel  not  surpassed,  if 
equalled,  in  ability  and  learning,  and  of  a 
jury  selected  substantially  by  yourself,  you 
have  been  convicted  of  the  crime  of  murder 
in  the  second  degree.  The  punishment  of 
that  crime  is  fixed  by  statute.  No  discre¬ 
tion  is  left  to  the  Court.  It  is  severe,  but 
as  the  Court  deems  your  case  it  is  none  too 
severe.  It  separates  you  from  your  friends 
and  your  family  and  consigns  you  for  life  to 
the  State  Prison,  from  which  you  probably 
can  have  no  hope  of  escape  unless,  possibly, 
at  some  future  day,  through  Executive 
clemency.  The  evidence  in  your  case,  in 
my  judgment,  fully  justified  the  verdict 
”  which  has  been  rendered  against  you,  and  I 
have  fearful  doubts  that  it  would  have  justi¬ 
fied  a  verdict  of  murder  in  the  first  degree, 
for  I  cannot  conceive  what  motives  you 
had  in  preparing  yourself  as  you  did  with  a 
pistol  loaded,  coming  to  New  York,  seek¬ 
ing  an  interview  with  your  father,  and  al¬ 
most  immediately  shooting  him  down,  ex¬ 
cept  upon  the  idea  that  you  had  deliberately 
determined  that  his  life  should  be  termi¬ 
nated  by  your  hand.  J  hope,  however,  that 
the  Searcher  of  all  hearts  can  perceive  from 
your  conduct  that  you  were  not  animated 
by  that  premeditation  and  deliberation 
which  the  statute  now  requires  to  constitute 
the  crime  in  the  first  degree. 

“The  duty  I  am  to  perform  is  rendered 
■•doubly  painful  by  the  fact  that  you  belong 
to  a  family  honored  and  distinguished  both 
in  the  civil  and  military  annals  of  your 
.  ceuntry.  Your  grandfather  on  the  one  hand 
was,  as  has  been  truly  said  by  your  counsel, 


for  a  long  time  the  chief  equity 
this  great  State,  and  he  left  a  r 
purity  and  integrity  and  for  all  tin 
virtues  that  advance  and  elevate  lna 
to  none  who  have  adorned  so  high; 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  a  grand 
the  mother’s  side  fell  nobly  fighti;: 
country  on  the  field  of  battle,  a< 
record  of  which  all  his  decendant. 
proud.  It  is  with  grief  that  I  feel 
express  my  soxtow  that  the  the  n 
those  great  and  distinguished  i 
should  not  have  restrained  you  : 
commission  of  such  a  crime  as  that 
you  are  convicted.  Your  poor  mo! 
indeed,  great  cause  to  x-egret  her] 
to  the  father  whom  you  have  si  a 
also  undoubtedly,  had  great  can  ' 
not  aggrieved  merely,  but  ashamia 
dignant  at  the  long  course  of  oir§ 
ward  her  and  toward  his  family  ;u 
as  he  was,  you  were  not  to  be  tlm 
of  these  wrongs. 

‘  ‘  He  had  done  nothing  to  forfe  aj 
even  to  the  laws  of  his  country,  ai  1< 
all  had  he  done  anything  to  for£e  i 
at  the  hand  of  his  own  and  (d 
When  I  look  back  at  that  moment  lie 
constituted  yourself  his  execute 
slew  him  in  that  room  with  no  o|fl 
but  yourself,  I  cannot  but  feelffl 
death  must  have  been  more  horriot 
thousand  deaths  in  any  other  fort  C 
by  you  to  your  presence,  apparenffl 
purposes  of  a  peaceful  interview  toj 
family  difficulties  ^invited  to  a  st:s 
room  and  apparently  almost  instiM 
fronted  with  a  weapon  of  death  i  W 
son's  hands,  what  thoughts  must ava 
cd  upon  him  at  that  moment"^ 
found  that  the  person  whom  helps 
ed  had  coir  e  to  him  for  the  pao*! 
peaceful  arrangement — what  i 

thoughts  must  have  rushed  uponUM 
he  received  the  leaden  mcssengcfofJ 
in  his  bosom  from  the  hands  olu« 
boy?  I  shudder  when  I  think  oft,  1 
think  you  ought  to  devote  younjohl 
a  repentance  such  as  God  only  ;i:-  ^ 
for  so  horrible  a  crime.  ThesenMI 
Court  is  that  you  be  imprisoned  ju® 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


73 


ri  n  at  Sing  Sing,  at  hard  labor,  for  the 
Term  of  your  natural  life/’ 

Troughout  the  delivery  of  the  sentence 
prisoner  looked  all  the  while  steadily  at 
cudge.  Not  a  tremor  of  emotion  did  he 
i  e  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  It 
a;  he  same  throughout  the  circle  of  his 
ani  y  attendants.  There  was  no  show  of 
eeiig  on  the  part  of  any  of  them. 

Jerybody  looked  on  astonished.  The 
iremned  young  man  after  the  sentence 
ipqe  to  his  mother,  then  shook  hands  with 
lis'ounsel  and  some  of  his- friends.  Then 
u  Seer  took  him  in  charge,  and  conveyed 
linjio  his  quarters  in  the  Tombs. 


XIII. 

ON  TIIE  ROAD  TO  SING  SING. 

(I;  Wednesday  morning,  July  9th,  at 
ib®t  half-past  nine  o’clock,  Deputy  Sheriffs 
Shi  ds,  Cahil  and  Ridgway  passed  the  en- 
ra  :e  gate  to  the  Tombs.  In  the  lobby, 
■atide  the  inner  gate,  were  groups  of 
lad  s,  who  had  evidently  expectecl  to  find  a 
:ea j  admission  within  the  walls.  This 
litt  excitement  wTas  caused  by  the  circum- 
sta;:c  that  a  cluster  of  convicts  were  to 
tea •  the  Tombs  for  the  Sing  Sing  Prison. 
Shi tly  after  the  entrance  of  the  Deputies 
a  n; nber  of  prisoners,  who  had  been  sen- 
tcn;d  to  Sing  Sing  for  various  terms,  were 
ai  cuffed  in  a  line.  Their  names,  crimes, 
anJsentences  are  as  follows: 

r  omas  Friery,  20  years  of  age,  convicted 
if  irglary  and  sentenced  to  four  years  and 
six  ionths’  imprisonment. 

I'illiam  Jones,  15  years  of  age,  burglary 
iintiscape  from  prison,  four  years  and  six 
mollis’  imprisonment. 

1  trick  Halleck,  burglary  and  assault, 
ser  need  for  five  years’  imprisonment. 

oraham  Grenthal,  for  grand  larceny,  one 
an  a  half  years’  imprisonment. 

Isepli  Mullen,  burglary,  two  years  and 
fiv!  nontlis’  imprisonment. 

iancis  Gillen,  for  murder;  sentenced  to 
im  isonment  for  life. 


After  the  prisoners  had  been  handcuffed 
in  a  continuous  string,  Mr.  Shields  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  search  them.  Nothing  was  found 
in  the  pockets  of  any  person  except  Gren¬ 
thal.  That  gentleman  had  a  six-bladed 
knife  and  a  snuff  box  in  his  breeches 
pocket,  which  articles  of  vertu  were  taken 
by  Mr.  Shields.  In  his  coat  pockets  ivere 
six  French  rolls,  of  which  he  was  also  dis¬ 
possessed,  the  Sheriff  saying  that  he  would 
find  plenty  to  eat  in  Sing  Sing. 

Meantime  Walworth  was  lying  in  cell  No. 
7  enjoying  the  luxury  of  his  last  shave  by 
an  experienced  barber.  He  was  dressed  in 
a  light  suit  throughout,  the  clothes  being 
the*  same  which  he  wore  from  Saratoga 
when  he  came  on  the  fatal*  journey  which 
ended  in  the  death  of  his  father.  As  he 
lay  on  the  bed  he  smiled  sweetly  as  of  old, 
and  seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  the  life  into 
which  he  was  about  to  enter. 

Just  as  the  barber  finished  his  manipula¬ 
tions,  Mrs.  Chancellor  Walworth,  the  grand¬ 
mother  of  the  prisoner,  arrived,  accompanied 
by  a  colored  maid  servant.  Walworth 
kissed  his  grandmother,  and  shook  hands 
cordially  with  the  maid.  The  two  women 
entered  his  cell,  and  an  animated  conversa¬ 
tion  ensued.  Shortly  afterward  Mrs.  Mans¬ 
field  Tracy  Walworth  and  her  younger  son 
arrived.  They,  too,  entered  the  cell  of  the 
parricide. 

At  twenty  minutes  to  ten  Sheriff  Brennan 
and  Mr.  Judson  Jarvis  entered  the  con¬ 
demned  tier.  Then  it  was  announced  to 
Walworth  that  the  time  for  departure  had 
come.  He  kissed  his  mother  and  grand¬ 
mother,  and  stepped  quickly  from  his  cell. 
That  which  was  particularly  noticeable  was 
that  there  were  no  indications  of  a  scene  on 
the  part  of  Frank  Walworth,  his  mother 
and  grandmother.  If  there  was  any  feeling 
it  was  suppressed;  the  tears  and  the  grief- 
marked  countenance  were  wanting,  and  the 
parting  showed  no  more  signs  of  sorrow 
than  if  it  was  of  a  pleasant  description  and 
only  for  a  time. 

An  opening  had  been  reserved  for  him 
between  Gillen  and  Jones,  the  first  of  whom 
ended  the  line  on  the  left.  He  saw 
the  opening  and  took  his  position  with- 


M 

out  waiting  for  any  direction  from  the 
keepers.  His  mother  followed  him  from 
the  cell  and  stood  in  front  of  him.  As  the 
handcuffs  were  being  adjusted  to  his  wrists 
Deputy  Sheriff  Shields  passed  his  hands 
around  his  clothing  to  see  that  he  carried 
nothing  away  with  him  that  was  forbidden 
by  the  law.  His  lips  quivered  and  he 
evinced  the  first  sign  of  emotion.  The 
bracelet  was  adjusted  to  his  left  hand,  lock¬ 
ing  him  to  Gillen.  He  was  still  trembling. 
Then  he  looked  up  and  met  his  mother's 
eye.  A  smile  was  on  her  face,  and  it  called 
forth  a  response  from  'Walworth.  From 
that  moment  he  gave  no  evidence  of  any 
emotion  whatever.  He  was  the  same  cool, 
collected  man-  of  the  world  that  he  had  been 
ever  since  his  arrest.  The  smile  upon  his 
face  and  his  apparent  indifference  to  his 
fate  was  the  same  kind  of  defiant  bravado 
of  law  that  characterized  the  unquestionably 
more  hardened  criminals,  whose  way  @f  life 
had  been  from  their  childhood,  almost,  in 
the  paths  of  crime. 

As  the  prisoners  were  about  being  con¬ 
ducted  to  the  prison  wall  an  elegant  basket 
of  flowers  was  taken  to  Walworth.  The 
colors  were  variegated,  but  the  ground¬ 
work  was  white,  and  the  monogram  F.  W. 
was  beautifully  worked  in  red  in  the  ground¬ 
work.  To  the  basket  whs  attached  a  card 
which  read: 

“Mr.  F.  II.  Walworth, 
with  regards  and  sympathy, 

Yours,  E.  W.” 

'  The  card  was  taken  by  Frank,  and  Mrs. 
Walworth  took  charge  of  the  flowers. 

The  prisoners  were  then  marched  from 
the  Tombs  to  the  prison  van,  by  which  they 
Were  taken  to  the  Forty-second  street  depot. 
Walworth  had  a  pocket  full  cf  segars,  and 
he  gave  one  to  each  of  his  seven  compan¬ 
ions.  Thus,  as  he  afterward  said  to  a  re¬ 
porter,  “the  smoke  neutralized  the  bad 
odor  of  the  prison  van,  and  the  prisoners 
reached  the  depot  in  comparative  comfort 
and  safety.” 

All  the  ladies  and  officials  immediately 
left  the  Tombs,  taking  their  last  farewell 
look  as  Walworth  stepped  into  the  van. 
Mrs.  Walworth,  as  soon  as  the  van  started 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


from  the  prison,  took  a  Fourth  avenu  u 
for  the  depot.  She  arrived  there  b>ij 
her  son,  carrying  the  basket  of  flowers  3 
purchasing  a  ticket  for  Sing  Sing,  took  gi 
seat  in  an  ordinary  first-class  car. 

The  string  of  prisoners,  as  soon,  as  % 
arrived,  were  conducted  to  the  smoking  3 
where  they  were  accommodated  with  jj 
seats.  It  was  soon  noised  about  the  d  J 
that  Frank  Walworth  was  on  thel0:40'fl 
for  Sing  Sing.  The  result  was  that  fry 
other  car  was  emptied,  •  „nd  the  passers 
flocked  to  the  smoking  car  to  have  a  lo<  at 
the  lion  of  the  hour.  The  car  was  f  ly 
packed,  and  for  a  time  breathing  wait* 
most  impossible.  To  a  reporter,  wlnn 
eompanied  the  party  to  Sing  Sing,  and  » 
sat  immediately  behind  Walworth,  thut 
ter  said  it  was  amusing  to  see  the  an  ty 
on  the  part  of  the  crowd  to  see  a  man  10 
had  been  victimized. 

“It  don’t  seem  to  annoy  you  much,  'd 
Walworth,”  said  the  reporter. 

“No,”  he  replied,  “I  hope  we  Shall# 
the  car  cleared  oT the  crowd  60on,  anive 
shall  get  some  fresh  air.  It  is  the  wa  of 
that  I  have  felt- the  most.” 

“The  Tombs  is  a  long  way  from 
healthy;  and  I  thought  this  morning, 
went  in  from  the  fresh  air  of  the  stre  1 
could  snuff  the  mouldy  dampness  of1« 
walls.” 

“I  don’t  suppose,”  replied  Walw  V 
“that  it  is  the  unhealthiness  of  the  Tow 
though  it  is  not  a  very  healthy  place, 
lieve ;  but  I  have  lost  fourteen  poixi  in 
weight  since  I  went  in  there.  I  had  « 
accustomed  to  a  good  deal  of  outdoor  epi 
cise,  boating  and  similar  occupations,  illl 
was  in  excellent  health.” 

“You  were  well  treated  in  the  To>s*.| 
had  not  much  to  complain  of,  had  you?  ■ 

“No,  I  was  well  treated.  I  found ba 
Warden  very  fair  and  considerate. Olj 
course,  it  was  not  like  being  outside, 
are  a  prisoner,  and  it  is  just  as  well 
member  that  and  make  up  your  min  N 
it.” 

Did  you  mix  with  the  other  pris 
much,  so  as  to  know  anything  of  thej 
their  character! sties?” 


l1 

1 


on- 

re* 


risers; 
tlu  or 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


•  es,  I  found  those  whom  I  got  very  in- 
a:  with  very  decent  sort  of  fellows.  I 
a  there  is  a  great  deal  more  good  in 
n  als  than  people  generally  suppose, 
its  my  conviction  after  a  short  experi- 
e  Of  course,  a  fellow  feeling  makes  us 
d  hut,  even  allowing  for  that,  I  think 
res  a  love  of  fair  play  and  a  general  de- 
1  '  he  sociable  on  the  part  of  the  men 
i  n't  help  to  make  one  feel  very  kindly 
a  s  them. 

.t  :ngth  the  train  moved  from  the  depot, 

[  t,3  suffocating  crowd  dispersed.  Many 
•e  pntributions  from  other  trains,  and 
•n  he  whistle  which  announced  the  de- 
uj  sounded,  went  out  of  the  car.  An 
an  sense  of  relief  came  over  the  occu- 
tSif  the  car.  Mr.  Judson  Jarvis  said, 
e  vill  have  a  little  air  now,  at  all 
ntr 


-  it till,  although  the  car  was  vacated, 
stijit  along  the  road  was  lined.  ‘ 1  There 
s,’; ‘That’s  Walworth!”  was  heard  on 
U  des  of  the  train.  The  only  effect 
m  te  parricide  was  to  make  him  smile 
he  iriosity  of  the  crowd, 
he  ar  reached  Ilarleni.  As  the  train 
ere<  a  large  crowd  was  seen  on  the 
ge.  Walworth  said : 

T1  re  must  be  a  race  there,  to  draw 
cri’d.” 

Ai  you  fond  of  rowing?”  asked  the 
ortd 

lys  fond  of  all  athletic  sports, ”  xvas 
.nser,  “but  base  ball  is  my  specialty, 
ive  | id  more  experience  in  that  than  in 
hii  else.  I  have  been  banned  about 
hu  generally  in  tliat.  In  boating  I 
sating,  and  I  think  I  can  manage  a 
bop  as  well  as  the  best  of  them.  I  have 
i  Ought  up  to  exercise  myself  in  every 
po  ble,  and  I  believe  that  is  the  way. 
finji  man  up.” 

he  andcuffs  on  Walworth’s  hands 

led  o  trouble  him  exceedingly,  but 

11  tl  reporter  spoke  of  them  he  said, 

8  mi  qct  ; 

© 

Thl:  are  the  first  cuffs  I  ever  had  on 
per  iration  did  not  affect  the  starch 

lem 


This  was  overheard  and  a  general  laugh 
followed. 

At  this  point  a  letter  was  handed  him  by 
the  conductor  from  his  mother.  It  was  a 
short  note  of  about  ten  lines.  He  read  it, 
smiled,  and  said: 

“  I  have  a  good  mother,  and  I  would  die 
for  her  if  necessary.” 

The  inevitable  nuisance  of  railway  trains 
— the  prize  candy  boy — came  along.  lie 
left  a  package  in  every  seat  except  the  seats 
of  the  convicts,  and  as  he  passed  Walworth 
and  Gillen,  who  were  sitting  together,  the 
former  said : — 

“  I  never  realized  the  advantage  of  hand¬ 
cuffs  before.  I  have  often  wondered  if  I 
could  go  in  a  train  without  being  bored  by 
these  candy  boys.  I  have  done  it  this  time, 
but  I  assure  you  it  is  the  first.” 

Walworth  was  seated  on  the  right  side  of 
the  car,  and  consequently  lost  the  view  of 
the  Hudson.  Speaking  of  this,  he  said: 

“  I  have  seen  the  Hudson  often  enough, 
and  am  going  where  I  shall  probably  see 
more  of  it  than  I  wish.  It  is  a  beautiful 
river;  and,  speaking  of  the  Hudson,  do  you 
see  that  I  have  the  same  clothes  on  that  I 
wore  when  I  came  from  Saratoga,  the  last 
time  I  traveled  on  this  road?  Then  I  came 
down  in  a  palace  car ;  now  I  go  up  in  a 
smoking  car  to  State  Prison.  But,  after 
all,  what  does  it  matter?  I  have  done  what 
I  deemed  to  be  my  duty.  If  I  have  erred, 
it  has  been  an  error  of  judgment,  not  of  the 
heart.  I  thought  I  was  doing  right  in  pro¬ 
tecting  my  mother,  and  I  think  so  now.” 

A  gentleman  who  wore  blue  glasses 
passed.  He  stopped  for  fully  two  minutes 
and  gazed  at  Walworth.  Frank  said: 

“I  will  bet  that  man  will  come  back 
again  to  look  at  the  menagerie.” 

He  was  right.  The  man  did  return,  and 
stood  at  least  two  minutes  more.  Then  he 
went  away,  and  Walworth,  with  a  half 
sigh,  leaned  his  head  against  the  window, 
and  said  no  more  for  half  an  hour. 

At  length  at  Tarrytown  he  roused  him¬ 
self  and  said :  “This  wind  is  nice.  Do  you 
know  I  like  the  trees  and  all  things  green. 
We  arc  getting  among  them  now,  and  the 
only  consolation  I  have,  except  that  of  hav- 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


76 

ing  done  my  duty,  is  that  I  shall  have 
plenty  of  green  things  and  the  dear  old 
Hudson  to  look  at  in  Sing  Sing.  You  may 
think  that  I  am  going  to  give  way  when  I 
get  there.  You  will  find  yourself  mistaken. 

I  am  happy  wherever  I  am — that  is,  so  far 
as  circumstances  will  permit.” 

Gillen,  to  whom  Walworth  was  attached 
by  the  handcuffs,  is  under  sentence  for  life 
for  the  murder  of  his  wife.  They  had 
quarrelled  and  she  had  left  him.  lie  "met 
her  one  day  on  the  street,  and  inflicted  a 
number  of  stabs  upon  her  from  which  she 
almost  instantly  died,  ife  plead  guilty  to 
murder  in  the  second  degree,  under  the  new 
law,  and  sentence  for  life  was  passed  upon 
him.  On  his  way  to  Sing  Sing  he  said  that 
lie  never  intended  to  kill  hiswiie;  that  on 
the  morning  after  the  murder  he  realized 
what  he  had  done.  He  had  been  drinking 
for  some  days  before,  induced  thereto  by 
his  wife’s  infidelities.  He  attributed  his 
wife  going  astray  from  the  paths  of  virtue 
to  the  miserable  salary  she  received  as  a 
milliner  in  a  dry  goods  store,  and  said  there 
were  thousands  of  work  girls  who  did  the 
same.  He  manfully  acknowledged  his 
guilt ;  said  that  he  had  made  the  suggestion 
to  his  counsel  that  he  should  plead  guilty 
to  the  murder  of  second  degree,  and  he  was 
quite  prepared  and  willing  to  take  the  con¬ 
sequences  of  that  plea.  In  his  straightfor¬ 
wardness,  his  lack  of  flippancy  and  his  re¬ 
spect  for  law  he  contrasted  very  favorably 
with  Walworth. 

At  length  Sing  Sing  was  reached.  At  the 
depot  there  was  considerable  excitement  on 
the  arrival  of  the  train.  There  was  a  crowd 
at  the  station,  and  it  was  increasing  in  num¬ 
bers.  Walworth  looked  at  the  gloomy  walls 
of  the  prison  with  a  sober,  but  not  sad  gaze. 
He  said : 

“Yonder  is  my  home.  I  only  hope  I  shall 
be  able  to  get  a  swim  there  once  in  a  while.” 

When  the  train  had  been  stopped,  Deputy 


Sheriff  Shields  said:  “  Boys,  we  will  ■ 
last  drink  before  you  go  from  your  li  I 
The  men,  handcuffed  together,  wer  J 
to  Daly's  Phcenix  Hotel,  where  th-  ] 
their  last  drink,  previous  to  enterin;  i] 
their  weary  and  long  imprisonment.  ] 
got  through,  deputy  sheriffs,  prisonc  i 
a  few  friends  walked  down  the  rr 
track  to  the  prison.  In  the  privat  1 
of  the  Warden  was  Mrs.  Walworth, '  it 
for  her  son.  Frank  was  allowed  t  4 
the  rest  of  the  convicts  to  greet  her,  d 
spent  a  few  moments  in  conversatio  1 
her  while  the  other  prisoners  were  ii 
the  usual  particulars  respecting  the::! 
at  the  desk.  Finally  his  turn  came,  id 
left  his  mother  to  answer  the  clerlqi 
tions,  which  he 'did,  somewhat  in  a  )[ 
and  joking  manner.  The  parting  l 
mother  and  son  was  characteristic.  1] 
were  no  signs  of  grief ;  there  was  :  1 
and  tender  farewell.  There  was  the  nt 
and  most  well-bred  kiss,  a  single  sffc 
the  hand,  and  Frank  joined  the  bn 
group. 

Accompanied  by  the  Doctor,  tl  (j 
convicts  were  taken  to  the  dressin  ro 
There  they  threw  every  article  of  d  «st 
had  on  into  a  basket,  which  was  ]  cci 
the  centre  of  the  group,  and  the;  pu! 
the  “striped  suit,”  which  is  the  :cu 
wear  of  convicted  prisoners.  Mle 
was  going  on  Walworth  was  as  g  fli 
of  the  crowd,  and  seemed  rather  4 
the  novelty  of  the  thing.  By  and  b« 
the  dressing  room  with  the  rest,  act 
them  having  a  towel  and  comb  in  >l« 
and  each  of  them  went  to  theirfW 
cells.  His  cell  is  No.  57,  on  tl  Sit 
tier.  He  is  to  go  into  the  shoe  si  \  !j 
to  learn  enough  of  the  trade  to  1 
become  chief  clerk  in  the  stock  dertaj 
where  it  is  supposed  that  his  cducioM 
admirably  qualify  him  for  so  uDi# 
trust. 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


11 


SKETCH  OF  M.  T.  WALWORTH 


Mssfield  Tracy  Walworth  was  born 
-■ci  3,  1830,  being  the  son  of  Reuben 
-f:  Walworth,  who  was  for  twenty  years 
^  hief  Judge  of  the  Court  of  Chancery 
tl  State  of  New  York. 

J.neellor  Walworth  lived  for  many  years 
idp  to  the  time  of  his  death  at  the  residence 
no  n  as  the  ‘  ‘  W alworth  Mansion,  ”  at  Sara- 
,.Tf  Springs.  Tlie  mansion  is  situated  on 
m.' way,  in  that  village,  about  a  mile  from 
ie  incipal  hotels.  It  is  a  plain,  unpretend- 
ig  j'd  building,  almost  hidden  from  pub- 
c  laze  by  magnificent  elm  trees,  and 
assises  nothing  attractive  in  appearance, 
heihanccllor  acquired  the  reputation  of  a 
an  if  high  honor  and  integrity  in  public 
fe, put  he  is  said  to  have  ruled  his  house- 
ld.vith  a  rod  of  iron.  He  was  a  strict 
'resyterian,  and  in  the  gloomy  family 
nr  the  Puritanical  ideas  which  found 
rein  the  days  of  our  grandfathers  were 
noy  enforced.  The  two  sons  of  the 
haliellor,  the  deceased  and  an  elder 
rover,  who  is  now  a  Catholic  priest  in 
lb  y,  spent  their  childhood  in  this 
lociy  old  house  and  under  this  Puritani- 
al  le.  Boys  who  are  brought  up  in  this 
s si m  generally  become  one  of  two  things, 
heldevelop  into  sneaks  and  hypocrites, 
r  r  h  into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  by  a 
le  f  reckless  depravity  and  unbridled 
njdnent  vainly  imagine  that  they  are 
ssejing  their  manhood. 

Y  mg  Mansfield  entered  Union  College 
t  tl;  age  of  sixteen,  and  graduated  two 
cai  after,  an  exceptionally  early  age  for  a 
oll[;e  course.  It  was  while  at  college  that 
he  il  effects  of  the  training  which  he  had 
ceded  through  mistaken  zeal  began  to 
hofihemselves.  The  boy,  who  when  atliome 
rash-aid  to  call  his  soul  his  own,  became 
he  istesfe  young  man  in  college,  develop- 
ng  .ialities  which  eventually  came  to  be 
he  me  of  his  life. 

Y  ile  at  college  his  father  married  again, 
'is  icond  wife  being  the  widow  of  Colonel 


John  Hardin,  of  Kentucky,  a  gallant  officer, 
who  met  his  death  at  the  battle  of  Buena 
Vista,  in  Mexico.  Colonel  Hardin  was  one 
of  the  best  known  men  in  the  State  of  Ken-, 
tucky  and  wielded  a  powerful  influence. 
Miss  Nellie  Hardin,  his  daughter,  was  look¬ 
ed  upon  as  an  extremely  beautiful  girl,  so 
that  she  was  toasted  as  the  belle  of  her  native 
State.  After  the  death  of  the  Colonel,  his 
widow  having  some  legal  business  in  con¬ 
nection  with  her  estate  to  transact,  by  the 
advice  of  friends,  had  recourse  to  the  ad¬ 
vice  of  Chancellor  Walworth.  The  Chan¬ 
cellor  solved  the  difficulty  by  marrying  the 
widow  and  making  the  case  his  own,  and 
in  an  evil  hour  Miss  Nellie  Hardin  be¬ 
came  an  inmate  of  the  same  housai 
Mansfield  Walworth. 

After  the  marriage  of  the  Chancellor 
Mansfield  returned  from  college  and  took 
up  his  residence  with  his  father.  He  was 
young  and  handsome.  Miss  Hardin  was  sur¬ 
passingly  beautiful,  and  the  Chancellor 
thought  it  would  be  ahappyndea  to  arrange 
a  match.  It  does  not  appear  that  there  Avas 
any  strong  love  between  the  young  people, 
but  they  were  married  and  continued  to  re¬ 
side-  in  Saratoga.  Mutual  friends  wdio 
knew  the  character  of  the  bridegroom  shook 
their  heads  when  the  marriage  was-  consum¬ 
mated,  and  although  they  hoped  for  the 
best,  they  feared  the  worst.  The  husband 
and  his  wife  wrere,  therefore,  step-brother 
and  sister  prior  to  their  marriage,  and  the 
acquaintance  leading  to  the  union  was  form¬ 
ed  in  the  home  circle  during  the  life  of  the 
Chancellor,  when  his  son  and  step-daughter 
were  but  children  mutually  dependent  on 
his  fatherly  care  and  support. 

Chancellor  Walworth  had  set  his  heart 
upon  bringing  up  his  son  in  the  profession 
of  the  lawg  and  after  three  years’  study  at  • 
Cambridge  law  school  Mansfield  was  admit¬ 
ted  to  practice  at  the  bar  of  New  York 
State,  and  was  subsequently  admitted  to 
practice  in  the  Courts  of  the  United  States. 


78 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


The  famous  patent  suit  between  Erastus 
Corning  of  Albany  and  Henry  Burden  of 
Troy,  popularly  known  as  “The  Spike 
Case,”  and  involving  a  claim  of  $1,200,000, 
was  referred  at  this  time  to  Chancellor  Wal¬ 
worth  for  decision.  His  son,  Mansfield, 
was  apj>ointed  the  clerk  of  this  memorable 
reference,  at  a  salary  of  $5, 000  per  annum, 
and  for  a  number  of  years  was  constantly 
occupied  in  recording  the  testimony  taken 
and  preparing  it  for  the  press.  The  printed 
evidence  finally  made  a  number  of  volumes 
large  enough  to  constitute  a  law  librarv. 
His  labors  in  this  suit,  however,  did  not 
prevent  him  from  indulging  in  literary  pur¬ 
suits,  and  w'hile  he  discharged  his  duties 
in  the  case  he  also  produced  a  number  of 
sketches  and  several  continuous  stories. 

About  the  time  of  the  opening  of  the  war 
with  the  South,  the  great  suit  in  which  he 
had  been  clerk  of  reference  so  long  abruptly 
terminated,  ne  had  held  the  position  for, 
about  |ifteen  years.  Through  the  influence 
of  his  father  he  was  then  appointed  to  a 
position  in  the  State  Department  in  Wash¬ 
ington,  which  he  held  for  some  time.  Here 
he  went  daily  to  liis  work,  and  was  known 
as  a  sober  and  industrious  gentleman. 
Sudden!}-,  it  is  alleged,  the  proofs  were 
found  that  he  had  been  for  some  time  using 
•the  means  his  position  in  the  State  Depart¬ 
ment  furnished  him  with  to  give  secret  in¬ 
formation  to  the  Confederate  authorities  of 
what  was  going  on  in  the  North.  lie  was 
arrested  and  thrown  into  the  Old  Capitol 
Prison,  from  whence  he  was  released  as  a 
prisoner  on  parole  and  sent  to  Saratoga, 
where  his  father  had  to  send  a  written  re¬ 
port  of  his  presence  to  the  War  Department 
every  day.  When  the  war  ended  he  was 
released  as  a  prisoner  and  permitted  to  wan- 
der'wherever  he  pleased. 

Some  years  ago,  he,  with  his  wife,  joined 
the  Homan  Catholic  Church,  but  subsequent¬ 
ly  he  appeared  to  have  thrown  off  the  re¬ 
straints  of  religion  altogether,  and  so  far  as 
•the  Catholic  faith  was  concex-ned,  had 
written  against  it. 

Appai-ently  few  of  those  with  whom  M. 
T.  Walworth  had  any  association  knew  of 
the  family  troubles  which  finally  culminat¬ 


ed  in  his  murder.  Even  to  his  most  | 
mate  friends  he  was  very  reticient  aboi  j 
domestic  troubles,  and  few  of  his  acqi  a 
ances  knew  of  the  existence  of  a  skelet  i 
the  closet.  The  general  testimony  is  u 
outside  of  his  family  his  deportment  i 
that  of  a  polished  gentleman,  while  a  a 
ber  of  incidents  are  given  indicative 
mildness  of  disposition  and  goodne  < 
feeling  wholly  at  variance  with  the  com 
ascribed  to  him  as  a  husband  and  fathe 

His  appearance  was  quite  preposses^ 
and  he  was  considei-able  of  a  favorit  j 
some  circles  in  New  York  and  other  cs 
He  was  fastidious  and  proud  of  his  1 1 
some  person  and  fond  of  exhibiting  hi  ei 
in  the  streets  of  our  large  cities.  Wheal 
best  work — “Warwick;  or,  the  Lostlj 
tionalities  of  America” — appeared  it •  ai 
ed  a  great  sensation,  and  its  author  i 
eagerly  sought  after  and  his  society  co  a 
in  fashionable  places.  One  of  liis  cm 
speaks  of  “Warwick  ”  as  the  finest  ere  a 
of  his  brain,  and  as  displaying  his  pee  ia 
qualities  in  a  marked  degree,  anel  ad 
“He  had  not  what  could  be  called  a  n 
mind,  but  he  had  a  remarkably  eleam 
brilliant  one,  and  if  he  had  lived  he  w  Id 
doubtless,  have  attained  a  considerable  a 
nonce  in  the  ranks  of  literature.  Wis 
a  hundreth  part  of  the  genius  of  Byre  1) 
possessed  in  a  marked  degi-ee  many  ith 
latter’s  characteristics.  Like  the  great 
he  was  haunted  by  a  morbid  egotisna 
Was  fond  of  pai-ading  himself  and  his  (H 
bles  in  almost  every  work  he  gave  1th 
world.  Like  Byroxx,  he  was  unhappy  hi 
marriage  relations,  and  this  domesticifi 
licity  proved  to  be  the  bane  and  curse  hi 
life.” 

He  was  a  member  of  the  New  *orHia 
toncal  Society  and  was  a  fi-equent  visi  •  K 
their  halls  on  Second  avenue.  Althga 
some  years  ago,  he  gave  promise  of  aun 
ing  a  high  position  as  an  orator,  j  » 
abandoned  the  idea  and  contented  hiM 
with  writing  addi-esses,  which  has  eel 
frequently  delivered  before  literary  cm 
ties.  ' 

The  following  extracts  from  a  H«i 
written  about  a  week  after  the  murdqjfl 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


79 


vis  Walters,  who  had  been  on  terms 
macy  with  Mr.  Walworth,  fully  ex- 
hat  he  was  capable  of  inspiring  in 
very  marked  feelings  of  friendship : 
ne  five  years  ago  I  went  to  Saratoga  as 
>aper  correspondent,  and  arrived  in 
jith  of  August,  at  which  time  that 
;  centre  of  frivolity  and  extravagance 
with  adventurers  and  ultra-fashion- 
i)m  all  quarters  of  the  globe.  In  the 
’  a  Babel  of  excitement—  dancing, 
l,  promenading,  flirting,  &c. — 
cli's  novel,  entiled  ‘Warwick’ 
pnstrucetd  with  unique  and  startling 
ry)  succeeded  in  riveting  the  atten- 
f  11  classes — not  only  the  highly  cul- 
dbut  even  the  most  listless  and  un- 
ii — so  that  parlor,  piazza,  bedroom 
ogress  Park  were  alike  noticeable  as 
3 jar  the  ‘Warwick’  readers.  As  a 
puce,  there  was  a  vast  deal  of  com- 
iiregard  to  the  author,  and  he  was 
my  pointed  out  as  one  of  the  lions  of 
irgs.  In  fact,  like  another  Byron, 
vr.e  one  morning  and  found  himself 
s.  This  was  undoubtedly  the  happi- 
ril  of  poor  Walworth’s  checkered 
dareer.  He  was  frequently  alluded 
i  :in  exceedingly  gifted,  modest  and 
in;  *  *  *  In  becoming  acquainted 
:3',ral  resident  families,  I  noticed,  as 
fat  Walworth's  most  severe  and 
iescritics  were  the  people  of  his  own 
e.  As  an  instance  of  the  competency 
a  nsors,  one  young  lady,  after  a  very 
i<  s  and  severe  onslaught  upon  the 
colly  inquired  of  me  who  Humboldt 
Aar  reading  the  book  I  immediately 
a  ndly  notice  or  it.  This  soon  after 
tecitlr.  Walworth's  attention,  and  he 
uiin  me  at  the  American  Hotel. 

“C'  r  remember  ic  have  encountered  a 
ag  eable,  licnest-looking  and  unas- 
S  an.  He  was  nearly  six  feet  in 
dendidly  proportioned,  dressed 
mulous  neatness,  and  looked  you 
ay  the  eye  when  speaking.  His 
cur’l  in  short  crisp  locks  under  a 
aa  ^  t,  and  a  pair  of  bright  and  manly 
eJei  sparkled  with  intelligence  and 
Ml<|  sliip.  Eis  nose  was  well  formed, 


mouth  effeminately  small,  face  clean 
shaved,  with  the  exception  of  a  delicate 
brown  mustache.  There  was  a  peculiar 
look  about  his  complexion,  however,  which 
led  me  to  imagine,  with  many  others,  that 
he  had  once  been  greatly  dissipated.  This, 
I  have  siuce  learned,  was  an  inherited 
peculiarity  of  the  skin.  His  chest  was  broad 
and  prominent,  and  lie  bore  himself  as 
straight  as  a  pine.  After  remarking  that  I 
was  glad  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
creator  of  Constant  Earle  (one  of  the  char¬ 
acters  in  ‘  Warwick,’)  he  replied  that  he  felt 
indebted  to  me  for  the  friendly  notice  I  had 
■written,  and  laughingly  added  that  some  of 
the  newspapers  bad  slashed  him  without 
mercy — many  editors  having  literally  fallen 
upon  him  tooth  and  nail.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  number  of  Southern  organs  had  spoken 
of  him  as  giving  jrromise  of  greater  things 
than  any  other  living  American  writer.  He 
said  he  was  not  discouraged,  however,  and 
tlv_/t  he  had  already  begun  arranging  the 
plot  of  a  Persian  novel.  I  then  remarked 
that  the  astounding  descent  of  his  hero  into 
the  ‘bottomless  pit’  of  the  Mammoth  Cave 
strongly  reminded  me  of  some  of  Edgar 
Poe’s  weird  narratives.  He  replied  that  if 
he  thought  he  could  ever  write  anything 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  Poe  he  should 
consider  he  had  attained  sufficient  glory  for 
any  man.  At  parting  lie  invited  me  to  call 
at  his  house,  and  subsequently  I  became  in¬ 
timate  with  the  whole  family.  Many  of  the 
evenings  spent  at  the  old  homestead  are 
among  the  pleasantest  of  my  recollections. 
Often  of  a  warm  afternoon  we  all  reclined 
upon  the  sward  beneath  the.  shade  of  the 
huge  whispering  pines  in  the'  rear  of  the 
house,  and  discussed  literature,  philosophy 
and  religion,  the  little  girls  and  boys  often¬ 
times  apparently  as  much  interested  as  our¬ 
selves.  Inaeed.  I  never  in  my  life  beheld  a 
pleasanter  family  group  than  the  Walworths 
then  presented.  I  remember,  among  other 
things,  Mrs.  Walworth’s  laughing  account 
of  how  her  husband  once  roused  her  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  and  told  her  he  had 
solved  the  problem  how  to  save  his  hero 
from  falling  into  the  ‘  bottomless  pit’  after 
he  got  to  the  end  of  the  rope.  *  *  * 


80 


THE  WALWORTH  PARRICIDE. 


1 1  Mr.  Walworth  became  one  of  my  warmest 
friends,  subsequently  introducing  me  to  the 
Albany  editors  and  writing  notices  of  me 
himself.  Indeed,  I  was  so  surprised  at 
finding  so  much  gratefulness  in  an  author  (a 
thing  which  I  have  not  found  of  every  day  oc¬ 
currence)  that  I  at  once  expressed  my  surprise 
for  the  warm  personal  interest  he  exhibited. 
To  which  he*  laughingly  replied,  “Well,  I 
have  a  considerable  amount  of  the  Indian  in 
my  disposition— I  never  forget  either  an 
enemj'  or  a  friend.” 

But  a  few  letters  of  the  deceased  novelist, 
beyond  those  presented  in  Court,  have  come 
to  light  since  his  death.  These  indicate 
great  literary  industry,  much  paternal  rev¬ 
erence,  and  an  honorable  ambition  to  be¬ 
come  a  writer  deserving  of  applause  and  re¬ 
membrance.  In  one  of  these  letters,  writ¬ 
ten  from  Albany  in  1SG9,  to  Mr.  Morris 
Phillips,  of  the  Home  Journal,  Kew  York,  lie 
says : 

“I  am  working  very  hard — harder  than 
ever  before  in  my  life.  In  ten  months  Ihave 
written  and  prepared  for  publication  over 
two  thousand  pages  of  foolscap,  besides 
writing  several  hundred  letters  on  biograph¬ 
ical  inquiries,  and  this  in  addition  to  almost 
daily  study  of  printed  authorities  and  an¬ 
cient  newspapers.  My  dear  friend,  don  t 
you  hope  that  I  will  succeed?  I  am  very 
ambitious  of  literary  fame,  and  desire  most 
earnestly  that  it  shall  be  of  that  nature  that 
will  benefit  rather  than  injure  the  souls  of 
readers.  There  is  something  in  my  organ¬ 
ization  that  will  not  permit  me  to  seek  fame 
through  the  medium  of  the  prurient  issues 
of  the" press,  so  popular  here  and  in  Eng¬ 
land.  In  the  book  which  I  have  dedicated 
to  you  can  be  found,  I  believe,  no  sugges¬ 
tion  of  evil  to  send  the  blush  to  the  purest 
and  sweetest  cheek  in  Christendom.” 

In  another  he  writes : 

“Tiie  Boston  Transcript  economically 
grouped  ‘Warwick,’  1  Ililt  to  Ililt,’  and 
?Cloud  on  the  Heart,’  and  noticed  all  three 
favorably  in  a  fifteen  line  notice.  This  was 
very  funny.  I  think  it.will  soon  condense 
the  Lord’s  Prayer,  Ten  Commandments,  and 
the  Creed  into'  four  lines,  and  say  them  be¬ 
fore  going  to  bed,  to  save  time,  for  time  is 


money  these  days,  it  spoke  well  c 
three  books,  so  we  must  not  complain 
Another  letter  reads  as  follows: 


Mv  Dear  Phillips: — 

I  have  been  studying  in  my  mind  h 
show  you  some  permanent  token  of  i 
gard  for  your  efficient  friendship  in  ba 
thus  for  ‘Warwick.’  I  have  at  last  hit 
something  which  I  think  will  gratif 
and  at  the  same  time  be  a  memorial,  i  : 
a  higher  order  of  intellects  than  tlios  ■ 
read  novels,  of  my  regard  and  grat 
The  life  of  my  first  Chancellor  (Living: 
by  the  approbation  of  his  niece,  Mrsil 
liam  B.  Astor,  is  to  be  dedicated  tl 
The  life  of  my  last  Chancellor,  whose  a 
fame  is  well  known  among  the  Ch : 
jurists  of  England,  and  which  life  s  1 
the  fullest  and  ablest  my  pen  can  tra  : 
life  of  Chancellor  Walworth,  will  bta 
cated  to  my  friend  Morris  Phillips,  tl 
every  public  library  of  this  land  andtfi 
land'  a  memorial  of  my  affection  may  n 
when  lam  gone.  God  bless  you.  55 
friend,  M.  T.  Walwc  n 


In  another  he  says: 

“My  father  was  Grand  Master  of  isi 
in  this  State,  being  elected  Grand  51  er 
June,  1853,  and  a  most  zealous  Man 
was  too.  I  am  collecting  all  his  }*B 
history  to  insert  in  his  life,  as  I  ar if j 
Chancellor  Livingston’s  Masonic  hist' 
was  also  Grand  Master  of  this  State.  Gllj 
cel  lor  Walworth  was  also  a  mewbdfj 
“Ineffable  and  Sublime  Grand  I.  g 
Perfection.”  Ihave  myself  been  iajj 
in  three  degrees  of  Masonry,  and  aupm 
quentiy  a  Master  Mason,  and  all  of 
eris  superb  suits  of  Masonic  regalia  be 
len  to  me.  Three  of  my  ChamM 
Walworth,  Livingston  and  Lansin'-w 
"Masons,  and  I  shall  insert  in  their  rea 
Masonic  incidents  I  can  collect." 


It  is  a  singular  coincidence,  jw 
been  taken  as  an  evidence  that  he  h  - 
monition  of  what  was  finally  to  be|U 
that  in  the  closing  chapters  of  his 
erary  effort,  “Married  in  Mask,”  1|] 
esies  his  own  end  and  foreshadowsha 
“taking  off”  would  be  sudden  an  tr 
The  circumstance  is  remarkable, 
indicating,  as  it  does,  that  lie  had:u^J 
his  life,  which  were,  unhappily, 
grounded. 


Trials.  . 

T, 99146 

Vol.21 

DATE 

ISSUED  TO 

- - ^ - 

•7* 


iq.q  \  i* 


•otet.  2,1 


